A Story Ever Vile
by The Amazing Anigirl
Summary: For four nights, Jack Stevenson has been struggling to survive against a mechanical monstrosity that he has dubbed Springtrap. But there's more to this monster than meets the eye, a tale of tragedy and madness. Now Jack must free five little spirits and at last put an end to a long, sad story. Sequel to 'The Favorite'.
1. Prologue: Out of Order

All right! All right! I'll do more FNAF! Holy cow, guys! I was up to ninety views before my last FNAF fic was even up for seven hours! And it was amazing! Thanks to all of you!

This one might be long, and I'll try to update as regularly as I can while still working on my other story, _The Boy Who Lived_ (which you should ALL read and review, by the way! ;)

So this is sort of an extension of the FNAF one-shot I did, _The Favorite._ If you haven't read that story yet I would HIGHLY recommend doing so before you dive into this or you might not get it.

Until then, please enjoy the show.

Oh, and title was based off a lyric from the wonderful song, 'Painted Faces'. If you haven't listened to that song yet, go do so.

Enjoy!

* * *

Foxy had always been the one animatronic that was really _meant_ for boys. Chica was truly made for girls, and the others were designed to be lovable to children of either gender. But the sharp-toothed, hook-handed pirate fox had been designed to appeal to the energetic, aggressive little males that grew sick of the lovely-dovey songs sung by the animatronic band.

For this reason, Foxy was the favorite of most every boy that entered a Fredbear establishment.

And Lucas was no exception. Even though he and his friends were turning fourteen and were thus quickly moving past the Fredbear-and-friends phase, they still ended up accepting Michael's invitation to be the first ones to see Foxy's new show.

The management had decided that Foxy needed to have some new stories and lines programmed into him since the kids were growing bored with the same ol' scurvy tales repeated over and over. Since the management didn't feel like getting an actual technician to work on Foxy (because Lord knows _that_ would cost money) and since Security-Guard Michael was actually quite savvy with machines, especially animatronics (even though he didn't have a degree to prove his expertise) they had decided to temporarily move Foxy and his signature curtains to a backroom and let the guard fix him up.

He might have complained about this were it not for the fact that this little dose of overtime was giving him the perfect opportunity to get Lucas and all of his friends alone.

And what better place than Fredbear's Family Dinar, in front of Lucas' favorite character, the same character he had always used to scare Henry…

Henry. Yes, Henry had always been the exception to the Foxy-is-every-boy's-favorite rule that generally prevailed at Fredbear's. The fanged fox had terrified little Henry, and so had the mask that Lucas wore in order to frighten him...

How ironic that it hadn't been Foxy's jaws that had…

Michael's stomach started to roil. No. He wouldn't think of that now. Not now. Not when everything was going this perfectly.

Foxy ran out of his pseudo Pirate's Cove and the boys laughed and clapped as the fox-pirate immediately began to regale them with adventurous and hilarious tales of sailing the seven seas, hunting for treasures, and defeating dastardly foes.

One of them wasn't smiling, though: Lucas himself. He looked up at the animatronic fox and squirmed, biting his bottom lip and occasionally glancing at the square-tile floors.

 _What's wrong, Lucas? You always loved Foxy. You were dressed like him on your brother's birthday. Remember that? Of course you do…_

Foxy finished up his show with a hearty, "Enjoy yer day at Fazbear's Dinar, and be sure to come back again and visit me ship soon!" The boys clapped.

"So…enjoy the show?" he asked the boys as the metal fox retreated behind his curtain, just as his programming commanded.

"It was a lot better than the old one. And his voice got clearer," answered one of the boys. Darrell, he was pretty sure that one's name was Darrell.

"That's the idea," he said. "All new dialogue, stories. We even have a special mode for when it's some kid's birthday."

"Really?" said another boy.

"Sure…want me to show you? I'll put one of your names in."

"Cool!" answered the boys (except Lucas) in unison.

"Now…who gets to be the lucky birthday boy today?" mused Michael, stroking his chin and glancing from boy to boy as if he was seriously pondering this. His eyes landed on his son.

"How 'bout you, Lucas?"

Lucas became slightly pale. "Ah…that's okay, Dad. You don't have to…"

"Oh, no, no, no! It's fine! It'll only take a second."

"But Dad….I…."

"The fox won't eat you if I tell him your name, Lucas," he said as he slipped behind the curtain and quickly entered Lucas' name into Foxy.

"Your dad's right, Luke!" laughed one of Lucas' friends. "It's just a show."

Lucas stopped arguing, but he refused to look up even as the fox cheerfully scurried out of the curtain.

"Ahoy!" cried the pirate fox, and Michael slipped towards the door while the fox began his show.

"…a little seagull told me," said the pirate fox, "that we have a very special birthday matey here with us today….first-mate Lucas!"

Lucas was white as a ghost. He refused to acknowledge the pirate fox even as Foxy began to insist that he had once had a cabin boy by that very name and went on to tell a dramatic tale of how he and cabin-boy Lucas had escaped Davy Jones' locker

"…but that scallywag Jones was about to make poor Lucas walk the plank…!"

"Walk the plank, Lucas," whispered Michael as he locked the door. "Walk the plank."

But of course, the story ended happily for Foxy and his cabin-boy Lucas. That was only natural. There was no such thing as a sad story at Fredbear's. Happy endings for everyone. Everyone except Henry, of course.

Michael moved to stand behind the boys just as Foxy wished his first-mate Lucas a happy birthday and darted back behind his curtain.

"Enjoy the show?" Michael asked again. The boys were all smiling. All except Lucas, who just stared at his shoes.

"What's the matter, Lucas? Didn't like the story?" asked Michael, reaching into his pocket, his heart starting to beat furiously. This was it.

"Uhm…no, that's not it. No, it was fine."

"Don't lie, Lucas: you didn't like the story."

Lucas just chewed on his bottom lip and somberly shrugged.

"That's all right," said Michael, at last drawing the knife he had been waiting to use. "Maybe you'll like this story better."

"Dad, what…?!"

But within minutes, Lucas was silent. Him and his friends were all silent, and Michael's dark purple uniform was splattered with dark stains.

He stumbled to the locked door and leaned against it, looking at his handiwork and still soaking it all in. He'd done it. He'd actually done it.

At first all he could do was stand there, stunned at himself and his morbid act.

But then Foxy popped out from behind his curtain. He scurried right past Michael and stood before Lucas and his friends. The pirate fox, who was apparently stuck on a loop, promptly began performing for the dead children.

"…we have a very special matey here with us today…first-mate Lucas!"

Michael smiled.

* * *

Yeah…sorry about the creepy, disturbing, morbid opening but…hey, this series is about a child-murderer and possessed animatronics…it's kind of dark.

Please like, review, and check out my other stories. Be back soon! I always come back...


	2. Chapter 1: Survive the Night

_Many, many years later…_

Night Four:

Camera…

Window…

Nothing…

Ventilation Error…

Reboot All….

Play Sound…

Audio Error!

Reboot…

Reboot!

 _Hurry! He's getting closer!_

Reboot Complete

"Hi!"

A little boy's voice echoed from a room far from the security office. Jack Stevenson pulled on the collar of his purple uniform and squinted as the screen as he clicked on the camera for the room where he had last seen the metallic monster.

Springtrap (as Jack had decided to name him after listening to some very annoyingly-voiced instruction tapes which informed him that the possessed animatronic that was stalking him was actually an ancient Spring-Suit) turned. His decrepit ears twitched and his greenish-yellow body slowly spun around, following the sound of the child's voice.

Jack was unnaturally fortunate that Springtrap was still restricted by his programming, at least to a degree. His servos locked up when six o'clock rolled around, and he was drawn to the sound of a child's voice, just like Phone Guy had said he would be.

Jack sighed in relief and checked all of his systems once more. Camera good, audio good, ventilation good. That was the most important part: the ventilation. If that one started to go awry he would start hallucinating. Visions of the old Fazbear and Friends characters would assault his senses, jumping right at his face and scaring him near to death. Of course, those visions couldn't actually hurt him, but the sound of his yelps and the sound of the warning alarms going off would certainly garner the attention of a certain Springtrap. And if that happened, he might as well stick his head out into the hallway and scream, "Yo! Springtrap! I'm over here, come rip my head off!"

Jack himself was still planning on ripping Douglas' head off when he got his hands on him. The 'dude' had bailed out just as everything started to go horribly wrong. He hadn't gotten a phone call from his 'buddy' since Springtrap had arrived at Fazbear's Fright (The Horror Attraction) and started hunting the actor/security guard/canary in a coal mine down. Perhaps Douglas had sensed that something was wrong with the animatronic they had managed to find and had (wisely) decided that his life wasn't worth minimum wage.

Maybe Jack was a fool for staying. Any smart person with an ounce of common sense and a lack of suicidal urges would have quit the instant the seven-foot robotic rabbit started creeping towards them, glaring through cameras, clearly furious.

But Jack came back. Twice. Not because he needed the job (he did, certainly, and getting a job in the current economy was a miracle in its own right, almost as much of a miracle as surviving to six), but because he _needed_ to.

At first he _had_ planned on quitting, but several factors stopped him. First of all, he didn't want this monster to break out. By acting as bait, he was sort of protecting the general populace. He didn't want this beast to get out and possibly hurt some innocent kid.

Second of all, calling the police on this would likely be rather pointless ("911, what is your emergency?" "There's a giant possessed robot bunny rabbit that's trying to kill me!" "All right, sir, we're sending over representatives from the Saint Mary's Mental Health Center. Please don't touch anything until they get there.")

And then there was the biggest reason: he needed to know what was going on.

His curiosity had become unbearable ever since the first night that Springtrap had started stalking him. The beastly bunny had ended up right outside his door, and he had been face to face with the monster for almost five whole minutes, his heart pounding as he waited for it to pounce.

But it had just stared at Jack, likely waiting for him to look away before it jumped. Jack was lucky that it had been five fifty-five when Springtrap decided to peek in. Otherwise he would probably be one dead night guard by now.

But while he had been gawking at the abomination, he had noticed several things.

At first he had thought that those old stories about faulty programming and animatronics mistaking guards for endoskeletons were true, but then he had looked into Springtrap's eyes. Although they were florescent and robotic eyes, there was an obvious spark of life in there, and it was an angry spark of life. Springtrap wasn't just a machine that was dispassionately performing the will of its programming: it was really alive, and for some reason it was pissed.

Not only that. When Jack had allowed his eyes to scan the rest of Springtrap's worn-down body he had spotted what he could swear to be rusty-red bloodstains and organs peeking out of the ancient animatronic. How Douglas and his little excavation squad had missed _that_ was anyone's guess, but either way Jack was convinced that someone was inside Springtrap, very dead and very mad.

It was then that Jack started to recall old urban legends about dead children's spirits wandering the halls of Freddy Fazbear's when the clock struck midnight and old crime reports about a murderer wreaking havoc at the family restaurant. After seeing Springtrap up close, Jack started to suspect that those legends weren't just scary stories made up by children and superstitions spread by adults.

So he stayed, hoping beyond hope that something would happen, that perhaps one of the phantoms would stop scaring him and would instead speak to him. Tell him everything that had happened, why all of this was going on, and how he could stop it.

But so far, nothing.

He growled in aggravation and began to seriously consider walking right up to Springtrap and demanding answers. Sure, the rabbit would probably eat him before it politely conversed, but at least he wouldn't be doing nothing.

"Come on!" he called out, though he knew that making any noise was dangerous. "Give me something to work with here! I'll try and help if I can, but give me _something!_ "

There was only silence.

Huffing, Jack shook his head and went back to his pattern.

Reboot All….

Window…

Camera…

* * *

Thanks to everyone who's reading and reviewing and favorting and following. And if you're not….what are you waiting for? Tell me your thoughts!

And just to be clear: this story is being told a bit out of order. All shall be explained…

Also, remember: this is a sequel to The Favorite. Please go read that one if you haven't already! You'll enjoy it, promise :)


	3. Chapter 2: Make This Puppet Proud

" _Ninety years without slumbering…_

 _Tick, tock, tick, tock_

 _His life's seconds numbering_

 _Tick, tock, tick, tock_

 _Then it stopped short-never to go again_

 _When the old man died…"_

For what must have been the nine thousandth time, the creature called the Puppet found itself softly singing the tune it had become obsessively accustomed to. The little music box that had allowed it to slumber serenely through the night had long ago been destroyed, and thus if it wished to get a moment of peace it had to sing to itself.

 _"Ninety years without slumbering…"_

It hadn't been ninety years since the Puppet's last peaceful slumber, not quite. It felt like it had been that long, like it had been forever since it was able to drift into oblivion and forget all of the anger and pain.

 _"Then it stopped short…"_

There was no anger within the creature called the Puppet anymore. No more hatred that ran through its adopted body and drove it to pursue a killer in purple to the ends of the earth. All that was left now was sadness. Sadness, loneliness, emptiness.

 _"When the Purple Man died…"_

It unconsciously found itself switching the lyrics to its little song as it thought of the mauve murderer. The Puppet hadn't thought that this would happen. It had thought that once the Purple Man was dead all of the sadness and hurt would go away, all of the anger would be gone, and it and all of its friends could finally fade together.

But that hadn't happened.

The Puppet was perfectly happy with how things had turned out as far as the Purple Man went: he got exactly what he deserved. Now he was the only monster left, forced to wander the halls of the kid's-restaurant-turned-horror-attraction and helplessly cry out in pain and fury.

Yes, justice had been done, just like the Puppet wanted. Things should have been okay after that.

And yet the children's spirits were still sad, still scared, and the Puppet had no clue why. They had gotten their revenge. Wasn't that what they wanted? Wasn't that why it had given them new life in the first place?

The Purple Man had destroyed their robotic bodies long ago, and although it had saddened the Puppet to see the bodies it had so tenderly used to give the children new life broken it had thought that wouldn't matter so long as Purple Man paid. Once he paid, once he died, they could fade. They wouldn't need bodies anymore.

The children that had inhabited the Toys disappeared once the Purple Man went away. But Freddy, Chica, Bonnie, Foxy, Balloon Boy and Mangle…they were all still there. And now they didn't even have bodies anymore. Only the Puppet itself still had a tangible form. The rest were forced to wander the decrepit establishment as phantoms, still clinging to the characters that the Puppet had assigned to them long ago. Their phantoms didn't look like the children they were. They still looked like animatronics…except older, worn down….

"YAH!"

The Puppet cringed as a scream echoed from the guardroom and several alarms started to go off. Well, there was one thing that hadn't changed. The children apparently still had a sense of humor since they insisted on popping in and spooking the newest night guard every once in awhile.

Timidly, knowing full well that Purple Man was going to be drawn to the noise that Night-Guard was making, the Puppet crept towards the security office, close enough so he could hear the guard curse and click a bunch of buttons to make the sirens stop.

Chica this time. The phantom fled from the office once the guard started hitting all the buttons. Chica turned and her transparent eyes met the blank black ones of the Puppet for a mere second before she vanished into thin air. The Puppet felt a sting where its heart belonged. The worst part of all of this was the fact that its friends had stopped speaking to it. Perhaps Freddy and the others thought Puppet had lied when it had promised that revenge would make everything better.

 _I'm so sorry, everyone,_ it thought somberly. _I didn't know. I would love to help you, but you won't let me. You don't trust me. Balloon Boy's the only one that will even get near me or let me speak to him…_

No hope. Not anymore. Perhaps this was simply their fate: to remain tied to this place for all eternity.

The Puppet was about to find a nice corner to hide in when a call came from the guardroom.

"Come on! Give me something to work with here! I'll try and help if I can, but give me _something!"_

Hope. That was the first thing the Puppet felt, knowing full well that Night-Guard was calling out to them, the spirits.

And he wanted to help.

That was unheard of. All of the former night guards had merely greeted them with screams and slammed doors. None, not even the ones that hadn't been Purple Man, had ever offered to actually _help_ them. They never even tried to talk to them. They just tried to keep them away.

But this guard was inviting them, offering to assist them. The Puppet might have been suspicious of such an offer long ago, especially coming from a purple-clad guard. But the Purple Man was already dead. It had no reason to be suspicious anymore, and it had every reason to take Night-Guard up on his offer.

 _My friends won't talk to me anymore…but maybe…maybe they'll be willing to tell him something. Maybe he can help._

It was better than nothing.

With a renewed sense of energy, the Puppet began to slink towards the office, singing it's little song.

 _"Ninety years without slumbering…"_

* * *

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Thanks for reviewing/favoriting!

And thanks to everyone who's reading! I hope you're enjoying it! Please review and tell me your thoughts so far, and please go check out _The Boy Who Lived_ if you're a Hetalia fan in addition to a FNAF fan!

I'll be back…


	4. Chapter 3: I'm Not the Bad Guy

Springtrap was far enough away from Jack that the night guard allowed his eyes to wander to the clock. 4 AM. Two hours to go before Springtrap's servos locked up and another night at Fazbear's Fright (The Horror Attraction) was finished…with no answers being provided.

He sighed and quickly checked all of his systems, rebooting them all just to be safe. Once he was certain that he wasn't about to lose audio/visual/sanity, he turned his attention back to the cameras. Springtrap had, not surprisingly, moved while he had been looking away. Jack hissed a curse under his breath and flickered from camera to camera, trying to find the animatronic.

He had to squint carefully since Springtrap unfortunately had a habit of blending in with the falling-to-shreds robotic odds and ends that decorated Fazbear's Fright (The Horror Attraction). Occasionally an arm or a glowing eye would be Jack's only indication that the metallic rabbit was in the room.

Except in the case of one hallway. Springtrap usually stood right smack dab out in the open when he was in that hallway, so Jack didn't feel the need to search it thoroughly. He flickered to the camera that kept track of said hallway and was about to switch to a different camera when something caught his eye.

Something was standing in the hall. Not Springtrap. It was far too thin to be the seven-foot, bulky bunny. No, this creature was skinny, with a dark grin and rosy cheeks. Not only that, it wasn't even really standing in the hall. He couldn't see clearly since the feed was overrun with static, but from what he could tell it looked like it was _floating._

One blink, however, and the strange creature was gone.

"What the f…?"

Before he could even hope to complete his question, alarms started to wail. Confused (he had just rebooted the ventilation, after all, no way it was malfunctioning this quickly), Jack shoved the monitor aside.

As soon as he did so, he found himself face-to-face with the creature from the hall.

He didn't scream, cringe, or even gasp. He froze, just like he had with Springtrap previously, hoping that if he stayed perfectly still then maybe this _thing_ wouldn't harm him.

This wasn't a hallucination. He could sense that if he reached out and touched the creature, he would be touching a solid entity. This thing, like Springtrap, was alive.

As for its emotional state, though, he couldn't quite tell. While Springtrap was clearly angry all of the time, this creature's face was stuck in a perpetual wide grin. Yet its empty black eyes seemed to narrow slightly as it stared at the guard.

Jack took a moment to inspect the creature and try to determine who or what it was. Its thin arms and legs clearly didn't have an endoskeleton to give it support, so it wasn't an animatronic then. He stole a glance upwards and quickly discovered how it was moving and why it seemed to be levitating. It was not, in fact, floating. Rather, very, very thin strings were attached to its arms and legs, and the ends of the strings were stuck to the ceiling, somewhat reminding Jack of the superhero Spiderman.

But more than that, it reminded him of a marionette. A marionette that had somehow gained control of its own strings and was able to move about by attaching those strings to the ceiling.

The Marionette (as Jack immediately mentally dubbed the creature) didn't register in the guard's mental database of Fazbear and Friends characters. He was by no means an expert on the chain's cast, but he had been to a Fazbear establishment a few times as a kid and he didn't remember ever bumping into a character that looked anything like the Marionette. The Marionette was the sort of thing that would be more likely to frighten children rather than entertain them.

The Marionette tilted its head and slowly slid to the side so that it was no longer right in Jack's face. It tugged on one of its strings, removing it from the ceiling, and then with a flick of its wrist it cast its string towards the corner. The string stuck to the wall and the Marionette moved to hang right over Jack's desk.

When it seemed that the Marionette wasn't going to hurt him, Jack quickly shut off the alarms and clicked 'Play Audio' on a camera to the far end of the building so that Springtrap wouldn't interrupt this little meeting. Once that was done, he faced the Marionette and swallowed.

"Uhm…" he muttered, "H-hello."

The Marionette just tilted its head some more.

"I-I…." Jack stumbled, "I—I'm not here to hurt you or anything. S-so don't hurt me, okay?"

The Marionette was silent.

"I-I'm the night guard here, not a bad guy," muttered Jack, vaguely recognizing the fact that he was talking to a living marionette and probably needed to check himself into a mental ward pronto, provided he survived this little encounter. "C-can you understand me?"

Slowly, the Marionette nodded.

"C-c-can you talk?"

The Marionette was silent for a moment before a raspy voice emerged from its grinning mouth. "It's been some time."

Jack cringed. The voice sounded worn, as though years of disuse had taken its toll. "S-some time? Since what?"

"Since I have spoken to an adult."

"O-oh," muttered Jack. "Well…thanks for talking to me, then."

"Adults lie quite often. And they're often cowardly. They leave their children all alone with us, but then when they're left alone with us all they do is scream."

"Ah…well…I wouldn't exactly say I'm a coward…and I'm not lying. I really am just a security guard…I just came here because it's my job and…"

"And yet," said the Marionette, "you called out to us. You said you would help us."

Jack could feel a sweat bead roll down his face. "Ah…oh…right. I-I did say that."

"Were you lying?"

"N-no. I mean, I really was actually hoping to figure out what was goin' on here, it's been driving me nuts. So…so you and Springtrap…you do need help after all?"

"Springtrap?" repeated the Marionette, and Jack could swear that he saw its empty eyes narrow inquiringly.

"The big bunny thing, it's been…"

A flare of hatred seemed to shoot from the Marionette's blank eyes as it snarled, "You mean the Purple Man."

Jack arched an eyebrow. "The what…? Uhm…he's not purple."

"He wore purple when he took our lives away."

It took a moment for Jack to connect the dots, but once he did his eyes lit up in horrified surprise.

"Wait…Springtrap…the guy inside…that's the murderer? The one who killed the kids? And you…?"

"I was his second victim," said the Marionette. It looked down at the floor and whispered, "Or at least I thought I was."

"What…do you mean?"

"Golden Freddy."

"Golden…who?"

"I remained behind after Purple Man took my life," the Marionette explained. "But the Purple Man didn't stop after me. Four more followed, and I gave them new bodies, new life."

"The animatronics…the stories…"

"Yes," said the Marionette, leaning slightly forward, an edge of excitement coming to its voice. "I gave them new life, and I gave life to the others he killed. Balloon Boy, Mangle, Toy Bonnie and Chica and Freddy. All of them…except for Golden Freddy."

"And Golden Freddy…?"

"Golden Freddy didn't have a body, but he took the form of an old Spring-Suit. I had always thought that he was Purple Man's first victim. He was here before me. But now…now I'm not so sure."

"You never asked?"

"Golden Freddy speaks to no one."

"A…shy one, hm? All right…but…the animatronics were all destroyed, so what happened to the kids?"

"After Purple Man destroyed their bodies," the Marionette elaborated, twisting its neck at an uncomfortable angle so that it was staring at Jack upside-down, "we confronted him. The coward tried to hide from us in the Spring-Suit, but…"

"It crushed him," Jack surmised, remembering Phone-Guy's warning about how dangerous the suits were.

"Yes," said the Marionette. "Toy Bonnie, Toy Chica, Toy Freddy…they all left after that. But the rest remained. You've seen them several times."

"Those…those weren't just hallucinations, then!"

"They've always been a bit impish," said the Marionette, a touch of fondness coming to its tone. "Regardless, I had thought that they would all move on once Purple Man died."

"So…why didn't they?"

"Golden Freddy."

"What did he do?"

"He became even more despondent."

"Uh…that's a big word."

" _Sad,"_ sighed the Marionette with a touch of irritation, "The fact that I died as a child doesn't make me an idiot. But either way, Golden Freddy is sad and so Freddy is sad, and because Freddy is sad the rest are sad. And as long as we are all full of fear and woe we cannot move on. I won't leave without the others. I _can't."_

The Marionette twisted its body at an odd angle so that it could raise itself almost to the ceiling. Jack had to crane his neck to meet its eyes.

"You said that you wanted answers," said the Marionette. "I'm afraid I have no more to give. But if you truly wish to help us then I beg of you: try to speak to the others, find out what makes them so sad and help them. They will no longer speak to me, but perhaps they will speak to you."

Jack, almost overwhelmed, sputtered, "But…I mean…they just keep jumping out at me! I can't really have a conversation with them!"

"You'll need to find them when they are not trying to scare you, then," replied the Marionette. "I will think of something…if you'll return tomorrow."

"I…of course I'm coming back…"

"Then will you help us?"

"I…oh, hell, why not? Sure, if it means getting some answers. I'll do what I can, but I can't make any promises."

"Good," said the Marionette. "Then thank you…what is your name, Night-Guard?"

"Me? Ah…Jack. Jack Stevenson. And…uh…I don't mean to be rude, but what's yours? I don't remember your…"

"The Puppet."

Jack glanced at the strings. Well, fitting.

"Puppet?" he repeated.

" _The_ Puppet," snapped the Puppet with ire, as though Jack had said something woefully offensive.

" _The_ Puppet,' sighed Jack, who might have been amused were the situation not so strange and spooky. "Well, all right then, _The_ Puppet. I'll…"

But Jack was interrupted by a small chime. Both he and the Puppet glanced at the clock.

"It's day," said the Puppet. "I must sleep. Goodbye, Night-Guard Jack."

And with that, the Puppet pulled its strings off the ceiling and was gone before Jack could even hope to finish his sentence.

* * *

I always sort of wondered how the Puppet moved around. I mean, it _is_ a puppet after all, and those legs wouldn't really do well to support its body. Hope my string explanation sounds believable.

Regardless, once again I'd like to thank everyone who has reviewed, read, favorited, or chosen to follow this story. It really does motivate me to write faster when I see that people are enjoying what I'm writing, and if you are enjoying it (or have any problems with it) I'd like to know your thoughts! Please review!

I'd also once again like to recommend my other story, _The Boy Who Lived,_ to all my Hetalia fans out there! Please go read that one and tell me your thoughts! Lots of love is going into both of these fanfics!

Coming up next: a long chapter. Stay tuned!


	5. Chapter 4: Let's Try to Make It Right

"I'm telling ya', bro, there's some freaky shit happening at Fazbear's."

Jack shoved several necessities into his backpack with one hand and tried to make sure that his cell phone was tucked securely under his ear with the other. The signal was marred by static, but he could still hear his brother clearly enough to hear the amused condescension in his voice as he spoke.

"Yeah, right, Jackie," chuckled Rob. "You getting your Ghostbusters garb on or what?"

"Laugh all ya' want, Robby, but I saw what I saw," said Jack. He had told his brother about seeing Springtrap and the Marionette wandering the halls (he had neglected to tell his big brother about the Marionette actually speaking to him last night, but he decided to keep that a secret. No need for his brother to try and send him to a loony bin.) As predicted, Rob thought he was just joking, but Jack really didn't care. He needed to talk to someone, and his brother was his best friend. If he was going to tell anyone that a seven-foot bunny rabbit was hunting him down from midnight to six, he might as well tell Rob.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," sighed Robert. "Well, when you're done going nuts are you gonna come back up and visit? Dad's been blabbing none stop about you working for a Fazbear place."

"How's the old man?"

"Fine, except he's considering disowning you for working at Fazbear's."

"He _really_ hates the company, doesn't he?" chuckled Jack, tossing his purple jacket on.

"You remember how he and Mom used to nearly kill each other whenever she dropped us off there," Rob said. "He always thought it was a hellhole of bad food and creepy robots…and, well, yeah, it is. Plus he was always worried that some weirdo would try an' get us into his white van or something."

"Can't say those fears were unfounded," sighed Jack, thinking of the murderer that was currently trapped in the animatronic suit at Fazbear's Fright (The Horror Attraction).

"Well, anyway, tell him not to worry," said Jack. "I'm just gonna fix some stuff up while I'm down here and then I'll head up and visit…unless I end up dead. And if that happens, well, you know why: bunny rabbit."

"Bunny rabbit, got it," laughed Rob. "I'll write up your obituary today. It's gonna be great."

"All right, well, speaking of bunny rabbits I've gotta head to work. Hopefully I'll still have hands later on so I can call ya'."

"Right-o. It's getting late and I'm headed to bed. Not all of us are night owls, y'know. I'll tell Dad you said hello. I'll also tell him to hold off on that disownment."

"Thanks, bro," Jack snorted. "Well, gotta go. Love ya'."

"Love ya', too, Jack. Delusions and all."

Jack hung up and stared down at his phone for a few seconds. It suddenly hit him that he might very well die tonight, all joking aside. Springtrap was no mere machine, after all. There was a killer in there, a serial killer that wouldn't hesitate to hurt children and therefore was unlikely to be merciful towards the night guard.

He should have been trembling at the thought of stepping near Fazbear's Fright (The Horror Attraction). It wasn't as though he had nothing to live for, after all. He didn't have a wife and kids or anything, and as far as general living conditions went his was mediocre to say the least (a job at a little urban attraction didn't allow him to dine on caviar, after all), but he had an awesome brother and a caring dad eagerly awaiting his next visit home. He had friends and family, so a suicide mission didn't seem to suit him.

Yet he wasn't afraid. He couldn't even find it in himself to be baffled by all he had seen and experienced in the past four nights. In the past four nights he had been stalked by a possessed animatronic and made aware that ghosts existed, and yet he wasn't astounded at all. He'd never really believed in all of those horror stories, but he wasn't going to let this newfound information drive him bonkers, and he wasn't going to let fear keep him from Fazbear's.

Because not only was he destructively curious, not only was his curiosity overpowering his natural survival instincts, but so was his sense of obligation. Creepy animatronics or no, those were kids in there. He would be a class-A asshole if he just left them there to rot. Springtrap or no, Purple Man or no, he had to do something to help out.

He made sure to silence his cell phone before he left (best not to let his stupid ringtone alert Springtrap to his presence). He got to the building an hour before twelve and hurried to his office. Although he knew that he wouldn't be in any danger before midnight since Springtrap's servos would be locked up before then, he didn't want to take a risk. Especially since he had no clue where Springtrap hid himself during the day. The last thing he needed was to bump into the bunny minutes before the clock struck twelve.

He used the extra time he had to dig through some of the old Fazbear and Friends odds and ends that were lying around his office. There was a box full of scraps that he could tell must have been from the early Toy models, and among the scraps he found an old guitar. He smiled and ran his finger along the surprisingly-unbroken strings, chuckling when a little tune was produced.

"Do—do—do," he hummed, clumsily playing the little guitar. "This must'a been Bonnie's once."

Indeed, this was from the older model. He could tell because the Toy model had had an electric guitar, but this one was just a regular ol' guitar. Nothing flashy or 'hip' about it. It had a pleasant sort of charm to it, and Jack decided to set it aside. Perhaps he could use it at some point.

He dug through another crate and was quite pleased to find several little figurines. Bonnie, Chica, and Freddy. He set them up on his desk. Cute. Not exactly useful, but cute.

He dug a plastic cupcake with the creepiest eyes he'd ever seen out of an old crate. Chica's. He'd remember that nightmare-pastry anywhere. He set it beside Bonnie's guitar, making sure to turn its eyes away from him.

Next he managed to yank out a slightly-faded top hat. It was either Freddy's or Fredbear's. He couldn't tell just by looking at it, especially because it was so old that the black was turning gray, but either way he plopped it on his head, chuckling and marveling at what a ten-year-old he was acting like right now. He whipped the hat off and set it beside the cupcake and the guitar.

He was starting to run out of time and was about to stop his little excavation and sit down when something caught his eye at the very bottom of a box. With a bit of effort, he managed to pull it out and nearly cracked up.

It was a plushie. A very, very old plushie. Obviously from the Fredbear years, when the Spring-Suits had been worn. It had clearly once been modeled after Spring-Bonnie, but age and wear had caused its golden surface to become greenish. Now it resembled its animatronic counterpart to an almost frightening degree.

Jack immediately decided to call it "Plushtrap".

He finally sat down on his swivel chair, giving Plushtrap a place of honor right beside him.

"Well, Plushtrap," he sighed, "looks like it's you and me against a psycho in a bunny suit. Let's hope Marionette's got a plan."

Plushtrap naturally said nothing.

"Oh, sorry. I mean _The_ Puppet," said Jack, yanking up his systems. Nope. Ventilation wasn't out yet. He was just going crazy.

The clock struck midnight and soon Jack (and Plushtrap, of course, whose contributions of moral support were essential) was once again forced to use dexterity and the sound of a little boy's voice to keep a murderous machine at bay. Springtrap seemed particularly aggressive tonight. Indeed, he seemed to get more and more pissed off as the time wore on. Jack had to be careful not to use the audio too much since that only seemed to make Springtrap all the angrier. And the last thing Jack needed was an even more pissed-off Springtrap.

Jack pulled down the monitor, ready to reboot all of his systems.

Instead, he found himself face-to-face with a phantom. A little boy animatronic, green with age, with hollow eyes. Jack stiffened and prepared for the ghostly machine to jump right at him, triggering all of the alarms.

But the boy just stood here, staring, his ethereal form giving off an aura of confusion.

"Balloon Boy isn't going to harm you, Night-Guard Jack."

The strange yet familiar voice made Jack look up just as the Puppet began to lower itself to the night guard's level.

"P-Puppet!" he stuttered. He sensed a spike of disapproval coming from the Marionette.

"Erg, _The_ Puppet," he corrected himself quickly, earning a nod of approval from the possessed puppet.

"You came back," muttered the Puppet, an edge of surprise in its tone.

"'Course. Said I would, didn't I?" mumbled Jack, his gaze alternating between the Marionette and the strange specter.

"So…erm…is this one of the friends you wanted me to talk to?"

"No," replied the Puppet. "This is Balloon Boy. He's the youngest here. I'm afraid he knows just as little as we do. He's only here because he doesn't wish to abandon his friends. He's also the only one that's still willing to let me speak to him."

Balloon Boy cast a look of sympathy towards the Puppet. Jack leaned a little closer to the ghost.

"Erg…" he muttered, "H-hi, I'm Jack, nice to meet you."

Balloon Boy glanced at the night guard and gave him an impish little smile.

"He doesn't talk," said the Puppet.

"He can't?" queried Jack.

"If he can, he never has and I doubt he's about to."

Balloon Boy shook his head and put a finger to his lips.

"That's what I thought," sighed the Puppet in what Jack could tell was a fondly exasperated manner. "Regardless, he is going to help lead you to the others, and he'll try to restrain them if they try to flee."

"Wait, back up," said Jack. " _Lead_ me to the others? I've gotta leave the room?"

"Obviously," said the Marionette, "You need to find them, find where they hide when they're not leaping in your face."

Balloon Boy gave a puckish little giggle at that and Jack shot a glare at the phantom child.

"Laugh it up, Balloon Brat," he huffed before turning to the Puppet. "I can't leave the room, though. I need to stay in the office or Springtrap might come across me. I can't help you much if he rips my head off."

"I see," said the Puppet, its already limp shoulders sagging slightly. "Why do you need to stay here? Isn't there some way you could leave?"

"I need to click some buttons to distract Springtrap…unless…"

"Unless what?"

Jack stood up and stepped aside, gesturing to his swivel chair and asking, "Can you press buttons."

The Puppet looked from the chair, to the monitors, and then to the nonchalant night guard before replying, "Yes…you want me to be Night-Guard?"

"Somebody has to," Jack said sternly. "And since I doubt Casper the Balloon-Ghost here is gonna be able to press buttons…"

Balloon Boy sadly shook his head and tried to touch the systems monitor. His withered hand, however, phased through the machine.

"There ya' go," said Jack, gesturing to the phantom as he pulled his hand out of the systems monitor. "If you want me to help you and your friends, you're gonna have to switch places with me. I'll help the kids, you'll man the office."

The mere thought nauseated the Puppet. The thought of being a Night-Guard, of sitting in the same sort of office that the Purple Man had manned long ago, made its lean body shudder with disgust. It had trained itself to hate the guards, and the Night-Guards in particular since they were the ones that always gave the Puppet and its friends such stress and misery.

But if becoming Night-Guard meant helping its friends…well…

"Very well," sighed the Puppet, "If that is what must be done."

It pulled itself so that it was above Jack's chair and then yanked its strings off of the ceiling, landing in the chair with a soft _plop'._ It sat up somewhat shakily, unused to being in such a position. Normally it was either lying down, crawling across the floors, or moving with its strings. Sitting down was…something it hadn't done in a long time.

It realized quite quickly that it wasn't the only seated one. The Puppet looked to its side as it felt a little plushie brush against one of its lean arms. The Marionette looked down at Plushtrap and then turned its gaze towards Jack.

"Really?" said the Puppet in a strangely patronizing tone.

"Hey," chuckled Jack, "don't make fun of Plushtrap. Plushtrap's very sensitive."

The Puppet let out a long sigh and Jack had a feeling that if it had pupils, it would be rolling them.

Jack showed the Puppet how to reboot the systems, check the cameras, and play the audio clips.

"Just lead him between these two rooms at the far end of the building," said Jack. "And be careful. Don't play the audio every ten seconds or he'll start to get really pissed, and _especially_ be careful not to play it in a room he's already in. If you do that, he'll know it's a trick and he'll start coming right at you."

"And if he reaches me?"

"Hold still and don't break eye contact no matter what. Can he…hurt you?"

"I can hardly die twice," said the Puppet. "But if he destroys my body…I'm not sure what would happen, but either way best avoid that situation."

"Right," laughed Jack a bit darkly. The camera that Jack and the Marionette were studying flickered and Springtrap was suddenly staring right into the camera. Jack could swear that he saw the Puppet shudder.

"Don't flip out," Jack advised. "Just go ahead and lead him away."

The Puppet nodded and used its long finger to click on a camera and hit 'play audio'.

"Hello!"

Balloon Boy smiled brightly when he heard the familiar sound of his pre-recorded voice echo from the room the Puppet had played the sound in. Jack noticed this and nodded.

"Yeah, BB," he said. "For some reason Springtrap always follows your voice. I think it has something to do with his programming."

"That's odd."

"Hm?"

"That's odd," repeated the Puppet, "Perhaps this was only true for us…but we were never drawn to our programming to that degree."

"What do you mean?"

"Our bodies would sometimes glitch and react in accordance to our programming," the Puppet explained, "That's why lights would make us freeze and adjusting our AI could slow us down…but it never made us lose focus. Our programming wouldn't have allowed us to harm anyone, much less kill them, yet we were able to go after the Purple Man."

"You didn't kill him, though," said Jack. The Puppet was silent for a moment, and Jack could tell that something was troubling the Marionette.

"Well," said Jack, deciding not to probe further lest they start losing time, "whatever. It works, so just keep using it."

"And what happens," asked the Puppet, clearly eager to change the subject, "if Purple Man starts approaching the room that you're in?"

"Oh…uhm…"

Jack grabbed a sticky note and quickly scribbled down his cell phone number. He stuck it on the side of the monitor and then grabbed the nearby phone, setting it beside the Puppet's chair.

"There," he said. "If Springtrap gets too close, dial that number and I'll feel my phone buzz. Then I'll know to scram."

He patted the pocket where his cell phone was stored to emphasize the point and the Puppet nodded.

"Then I seem to be ready," said the Marionette, "As for you, you and Balloon Boy should try to find Bonnie first. I never saw him enter your office or move around, so he must be hiding somewhere and refusing to budge. He'll be easy to corner and speak to if that's the case, and besides if you talk to him the others will be more willing to open up."

"Find Bonnie, got it," said Jack. He reached down and grabbed the aforementioned rabbit's guitar.

"Is that Bonnie's?" asked the Puppet. Jack nodded.

"Found it earlier," the night guard explained. "Think it might come in handy."

"Perhaps. Don't break the strings: it's very old."

"I can tell," said Jack. "Don't worry, I'll leave the noise making to you. C'mon, BB! Let's go!"

"Wait!" cried the Puppet before Jack could speed away. The Puppet gestured to the night guard's purple uniform and said, "Take that off. We don't…like that uniform."

Jack glanced down at his mauve jacket and bit his bottom lip. He nodded and pulled it off, tossing it into the corner before following Balloon Boy out of the office, now clad in only his jeans and undershirt.

The Puppet glanced at the crumpled-up uniform for a moment before its blank eyes returned to the screen. Springtrap was looking around the room that the Puppet had led him to, a strange call coming from his throat as he searched. The Puppet listened closely, but it couldn't tell what the animatronic was saying.

"Why do you follow the sound, Purple Man?" it whispered, flickering to another camera. "Are you looking for another child? Is that it? Why follow the sound?"

It clicked 'play audio' and a cheerful giggle echoed across the building.

* * *

Whoo! Long chapter! My wrist hurts!

Special thanks to Fabrio de Verbis, Little Kunai, 3shadowprincess, and Guest for reviewing the last chapter! Thanks to everyone for reading/favoriting, and please be sure to review! Reviews make my day and make me type faster!

Also, remember to go visit my Hetalia story, _The Boy Who Lived_ , if you love or even like Hetalia. And hey, if you're a fan of the game OFF (yes, the one Markiplier did a let's play of), go check out the one shot I did for OFF, _The Player Knows Best._

Up next: Why Springtrap follows the noise…


	6. Chapter 5: There Was a Time

_Many, many years ago…_

"That thing is creepy as shit."

Mark gazed at the animatronic that Fredbear's faithful security guard, Michael, was fiddling with, half smiling and half grimacing. Unlike most animatronic characters that the company put out, this one wasn't an animal. It was a little boy with a gaping grin and rosy cheeks, a character that more resembled a childish clown than a cute kid. The other animatronics might seem adorable to some people, but even the most hardcore Fredbear fanatic would probably shy away from the robotic boy.

Michael didn't even look up, but a slight smirk played on the edge of his lip as he attached a few more wires.

"I don't design these things, Mark," he sighed. "I just get 'em up and running."

"Why do they send 'em to you?" asked Mark, fiddling around a bit with the golden head of his Spring-Fredbear costume. "You're a security guard."

"'Cause I do good work and they don't have to pay me as much," grunted Michael. "Don't worry about Balloon Boy here…"

"Balloon Boy? Really? That's its name? Real creative…"

"I don't name 'em either. This little guy's not staying around. Once he's all programmed up he's getting shipped to the new Fazbear place."

"They're getting all the scary ones," chuckled Mark.

"Hey, we've got that Puppet thing. I'd say that makes us tied," Michael said, gesturing towards the open door. Although Fredbear's had been open for several hours no children had showed up yet, and thus the purple-clad security guard and his friend felt secure in leaving the door to the employee's only area open. It got stuffy when the door was shut, and since there was no danger of some brat rushing in and breaking everything both security guard and performer had decided to enjoy the air while they could.

Indeed, Michael had been tasked with programming and fixing up almost all of the new animatronics. Since the security guard lived only one city away from where the new restaurant was going to open and since he was known for being very good with machines-especially robotics-the company had ordered him to make sure that their newest attractions would be ready for the grand opening. Michael couldn't in all honesty say he was only too happy to help, but at least tinkering with the animatronics was a little fun and gave him something to do other than stand around Fredbear's waiting for something to go wrong.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," sighed Mark, "Well, are you gonna help me into this suit or what?"

He held the Spring-Fredbear head out towards Michael, who still didn't look up.

"Once I finish with the little guy," replied the guard. "Hey, where's James?"

"Dunno," answered Mark. "Probably in the back, havin' a smoke."

"This is a fucking kid's restaurant, he shouldn't be smoking."

"Ouch! Well, this is a _fucking_ kid's restaurant. You shouldn't be swearing."

"Touché," chuckled Michael. "There!"

"Done?"

"Think so. Lemme just test it out…"

He flicked a switch and the animatronic's eyes lit up. Mark cringed as Balloon Boy stood up straight and waved to him.

"Creeeepy…" whispered Mark, timidly waving back. He had learned long ago that the animatronics became a bit upset when he acted aloof and didn't respond to their interactions. Nobody was supposed to be mean or distant at a Fredbear establishment.

When Balloon Boy attempted to speak, however, a garbled mess was the only sound that emerged from his throat.

"Damn," hissed Michael, hastily switching Balloon Boy off so that the ear-piercing noise wouldn't make them all go deaf.

"Ow, what happened?" asked Mark, rubbing his ears.

"The voice box is fine, but the audio must have gotten corrupted," Michael replied, "Gonna have to record something fast. The truck'll be here to pick this one up in a few hours."

"Record something?"

"Can you do a good kid's voice?" asked Michael with a smirk. Mark scowled and opened his mouth, but before he could respond he heard a little bell ring. Both he and Michael glanced up. That was the sound of the door opening.

"Mark…" said Michael.

"I've got it," said Mark. He was about to close the door so that whatever kid had walked in wouldn't be temped to run into the employee's only area, but when he looked out and saw the particular child that had arrived he smiled.

"Oop! Not a customer! Hey, Henry! Your dad's over here!"

At hearing the name of his youngest and favorite son, Michael's smirk turned into a fond smile. He stood up and stretched his stiff limbs just as Henry scurried into the room. The five year-old gave his father's leg an affectionate squeeze before stepping back. Henry was absolutely beaming, and Michael noticed that he was clutching something in his left hand.

"Hey, kiddo," said Michael, tousling the boy's hair. "What's that in your hand?"

Henry wordlessly held out his hand towards his father and opened his palm, revealing the item he was clutching: a tooth.

"No way, it came out?" chuckled Michael. Henry nodded.

"That's your first one, isn't it?" asked Mark. Henry nodded again.

"I just lost it today," said Henry. Henry's voice was always quiet-he was a demure and polite boy by nature and thus when he spoke it was never in a high-pitched or loud manner-but there was a slight squeak in his tone that Michael recognized as his squeak of excitement.

Cute.

"Just today? You didn't pull it, did you?" asked Michael.

"Ah ah," said Henry. "I did wiggle it a bunch after lunch, though, and then it popped out. I almost swallowed it!"

"Well, good thing you didn't! Teeth don't taste good," said Michael. "Did you bleed?"

"Uh huh. I had'ta go to the nurse's."

'Did it hurt?"

"Mm hm."

"Did you cry?"

"Uh huh. I cried for a whole class!"

Mark snorted. "Well, at least you're honest, Henry."

"Henry doesn't lie," said Michael with a touch of pride. "He's a good boy."

Henry glanced down at his slightly-muddy sneakers, as though embarrassed by the praise.

"Let me see," said Michael, holding out his palm. The child dropped the tooth into his father's hand and Michael examined the little white square.

"Nice," he said with a nod. "Smile, Henry."

Henry gave a wide grin.

"I's wa' in th' back, Da'dy…" Henry mumbled, gesturing back towards the little hole in his smile.

"Very nice," said Michael, handing the tooth back to Henry. "You look just fine, and I think that's a very valuable tooth you've got there. Gonna give it to the Tooth Fairy?"

"Ah ah," said Henry with a shake of his head. Michael's smile faltered.

"Oh? Why not?"

"Lucas says there's no such thing as the Tooth Fairy," replied Henry. Michael felt a flare of anger. Damn Lucas. His eldest son always felt the need to make Henry's world a little less magical.

"Is that right?" said Michael. "Well, you can't always believe what Lucas says, Henry. He can be really stupid."

"I guess…but I still don't wanna give it to the Tooth Fairy, even if Lucas is wrong. I wanna keep it as a memory."

The child closed his hand around his precious first tooth and drew it close to his chest. Michael's smile widened again.

"Really?" said Michael with a chuckle. "Good boy, Henry. Not greedy. Most kids always give up their teeth. Tell ya' what: on my way home later I'll stop by the store and get you a little box or something so you can keep it safe. I take it you'll want a yellow one?"

Henry's eyes gleamed eagerly and he nodded. Yellow, Michael knew, was Henry's absolute favorite color.

Just above purple, and Michael had a feeling that Henry only proclaimed purple to be his second-favorite color because that was the color of his father's uniform.

But Michael would try to find a yellow box first, and if all else failed Henry would be more than happy if his father managed to find a purple one instead.

Michael glanced over Henry's shoulder and when Lucas failed to sulk in he scowled.

"Henry…where's Lucas? Did he bring you here?"

Henry's smile became a bashful frown as he shook his head.

"No," mumbled the boy. "I was excited because of my tooth and I really wanted to show you. I kept waiting and waiting, but Lucas didn't show up to get me, so I ran here by myself."

"Then Lucas is in big trouble," grunted Michael. "He must have been out with his friends again. I _told_ him to pick you up and walk you either here or home. _Big_ trouble, Lucas…"

He sighed and sat down beside Balloon Boy once more.

"And Henry," said Michael sternly, "if that happens again and he doesn't pick you up, I don't want you running here by yourself. You're too young and it's too far from your school. Have your teacher call me here if Lucas doesn't pick you up and I'll come get you. _Never_ walk by yourself, okay? It's not safe."

"Sorry, Daddy," muttered Henry in a timidly repentant tone.

"It's okay, I'm not mad at you," Michael assured him. "Just your brother."

"Your daddy's just worried, Henry," said Mark. "He doesn't want some creep to hurt you when you're all alone. That right, Mike?"

"That's right," confirmed Michael. His eyes wandered down to Balloon Boy and a smile came to his face.

"Say, Henry," he said to his son, "you wanna get paid?"

Henry tilted his head curiously to the side. "Paid?"

"Since you're not gonna sell your tooth to the Tooth Fairy," Michael explained, "you should get money some other way. I need your voice, and I'll give you ten dollars if you come over here and help me out."

Ten dollars must have seemed like a trillion to a boy as young as Henry. He grinned eagerly and ran to his father's side.

"What do you need me to do?" he asked, glancing down at Balloon b\Boy and squirming slightly. No doubt he agreed with Mark's claim that the childish animatronic was more frightening than lovable.

"Here," said Michael, opening up the animatronic's throat, "I just need you to lean real close. When I say 'talk', you say something and I'll record it. You get to be the new voice of Balloon Boy."

"Me? Uhm…what do I say?"

"Anything. Just make it sound cute. Shouldn't be too hard for you," said Michael.

"And don't say any bad words," chuckled Mark, giving the boy a little wink.

"Henry doesn't and _shouldn't_ use bad words even when I'm _not_ recording him, Mark," said Michael. "Now you be quiet. It's Henry's turn to talk."

Henry leaned close and Michael hit the record button.

"Hi!" chirped Henry. He leaned away from Balloon Boy and Michael stopped the recording.

"That was it?" he chuckled in a playfully-angry manner. "Oh, come on! You can do better than that! Once more, come on!"

He hit the record button again.

"Hello," said Henry shyly before leaning back.

"Oh, _pathetic_!" laughed Michael, turning off the recording. "I did _not_ raise you to be this uncreative! Come on, say something interesting!"

"Don't wanna!" giggled Henry shyly, putting his hands over his mouth and shaking his head.

"Well, Mike," chortled Mark, "if you wanna get your ten bucks' worth you might have to tickle him until he says something exciting!"

"Mark!" Henry cried as though he had been betrayed, but Michael grabbed the boy.

"Too late! Mark! When I tickle, you record!"

"Got ya' covered!" said Mark with a teasingly evil laugh, holding his hand above the recorder.

"Come on, Henry!" chuckled Michael, giving his son's side a tickle, "Say something!"

Henry didn't say a word. He just laughed, and his joyful laugh became Balloon Boy's once Mark hit 'record'.

* * *

And thus, that is the origin of Balloon boy's voice…and why Springtrap always follows it.

I have to admit, writing pre-psychotic Purple Man is a little odd, but I hope I did it well enough. He's definitely not a wonderful, fantastic, perfect human being, but he's not a monster. Not yet, at least.

Special thanks to Valkyrie of Hel (yes, you were right), Fallen-Ryu (good point! That game crash in game 1 nearly broke both my mind and my computer), KuraiFriend (you're the first one to notice and point it out :D ) and Fabro de Verbis (indeed they are! I appreciate yours!)

I'm feeling pretty down in the dumps right now because I'm moving to a new place and it's hard. Real homesick. Reviews would be greatly appreciated at this time. They always make me feel better.

Let me know what you think!


	7. Chapter 6: Why Do You Want To Stay?

_Night Five:_

As the sound of Balloon Boy's recorded giggle echoed across Fazbear's Fright (The Horror Attraction), Jack followed the voice's ethereal counterpart. Balloon Boy was a quick little devil, and Jack had to hiss for him to slow down several times.

"Seriously, BB, quit running," snapped Jack as silently as he could. "I know you're eager and all, but if we go thumping and runnin' around this place we'll attract the attention of the wrong bunny."

Balloon Boy frowned and nodded, gazing up at the night guard with wide eyes, as though to apologize for his thoughtlessness.

"It's all right," Jack assured him. "Least I got my exercise for today. Sitting in that little swivel chair all day's gonna make me fat…well, maybe not. I was sweating out all the excess weight."

Balloon Boy made a face of disgust.

"Well, yeah, that's what you little creepos do to me," said Jack. "No hard feelings though."

Balloon Boy and Jack both heard a tiny noise and froze with fear, but Balloon Boy smiled and pointed over Jack's shoulder. Jack followed the young phantom's gesture and saw the source of the noise: the camera. The Marionette had decided to check in on them.

"We're all right, Pupp-erg, _The_ Puppet," Jack said to the camera. "Move the camera to the left if everything's cool, to the right if everything's not."

The camera moved to the left.

"Good," said Jack. "Then keep your eyes on Springtrap. We're gonna look around the backroom, the employee's only place."

The little light on the camera flickered off. The Marionette was no longer watching them.

"Hope he…she...it's all right…what _is_ the Puppet supposed to be anyway?"

Balloon Boy shrugged.

"Well, whatever. All right, let's head to the backroom."

Balloon Boy bobbed his head and took off again, this time slow enough that Jack was able to keep up relatively easily. The phantom and the night guard reached an old door that had a faded sign on it: _Employee's Only._

"This is it," said Jack. He opened the door and looked down at Balloon Boy. The phantom was gazing up at the door with wide-eyed apprehension. When Jack beckoned him to follow, the child-spirit took a frightened step back. Jack, at first, wasn't sure what was wrong with Balloon Boy, but then he remembered that the Purple Man's victims had been murdered after being lured to the employee's only rooms.

"Oh," he whispered. "Oh…uhm…BB, why don't you stay here and keep watch? I'll head in and look for Bonnie."

Balloon Boy nodded gratefully and Jack carefully stepped into the dark room, leaving the door open behind him so that he could have some light and would hear if Springtrap started stomping towards them.

The backroom was a mess of mechanical trinkets and spare parts that Douglas and the Fazbear Fright excavation gang had apparently deemed not 'cool' enough to be prominently featured as part of the horror attraction. Animatronic limbs and rusted bolts and screws littered the floor, and in the corner there was a pile of false fur that had once been used to replace the animatronics' fur when it became worn down or stained.

Jack vigilantly stepped in, prepared to be ambushed by a harmless-yet-terrifying spirit at any second. No such scare occurred, however, and he crept towards the pile of fur.

"U-Uhm…" he stuttered. "H-Hello? I-I'm looking for Bonnie…"

There was no response.

"Please…I'm not here to hurt you…I just wanna talk…I'm a guard here…and I wanna help you and your friends…just talk to me a little bit…please…"

For a moment there was silence, and Jack was ready to sigh and exit the backroom.

But when he looked towards the furs one last time, a silhouette caught his eyes.

It looked like Springtrap's shadow brought to life. It even had a wide, toothy, and unnerving grin spread across its ebony face. The rabbit silhouette floated above the furs, grinning down at the night-guard.

Jack stiffened, but when the Springtrap-silhouette didn't move he determined that this specter had nothing to do with the murderer that the Marionette was currently distracting. The night guard took a careful step forward and stuttered, "B-Bonnie."

The shadow creature didn't move even an inch, and when it spoke its grin didn't move or falter.

"No exactly," it said in an almost amused manner. While the Puppet's voice was so raspy and strange that Jack couldn't assign the spirit that dwelled within a gender or age, he could tell when this shadowy Bonnie spoke that it was a male, and an adult male to be more specific. This wasn't the child-spirit he was searching for.

Shadow Bonnie (as Jack promptly decided to call him) didn't utter another word for some time, and so Jack said, "I…I'm sorry, but I…didn't think there were any adults here…adult spirits or anything…besides the one that's in Springtrap. I'm looking for Bonnie…I'm trying to find the kids so I can help 'em."

Shadow Bonnie chuckled in a rather patronizing manner.

"Admirable, but I think I should warn you that that's also futile," said Shadow Bonnie. "I wanted to help them too once…but they didn't listen. They didn't trust me. I stopped trying pretty fast…"

"Well…maybe that was the problem," said Jack, confidence returning. "I'm not gonna stop trying."

"You're that determined? Really? What's in it for you? Are you related to any of them? Maybe you're a descendant of Fazbear's founder and you want to clear your family name…"

"Ha!" laughed Jack, "If my family owned Fazbear's I'd be sipping champagne right now, not running around a haunted restaurant. Nah…I just don't wanna leave them all alone. They're just kids."

Although Shadow Bonnie's grin didn't dampen, Jack could sense that his words brought sorrow to the adult spirit.

"I see," sighed Shadow Bonnie. "I said the same thing to myself…when I decided to stay…"

His translucent eyes met Jack's and he urgently whispered, "If I were you, Night-Guard, I would leave now. It's become even worse since I made my attempt. Don't copy my mistakes."

"I won't," Jack assured him, "I'll make 'em right."

"You're hopeless. Hopeless hero…" muttered Shadow Bonnie.

"Why are you here?" asked Jack curiously. "I thought the kids were the only ones here because of the Purple Man..."

"Michael."

Jack arched an eyebrow. "Who?"

"That was his name…once…ha…" Shadow Bonnie's eyes moved woefully towards an old arm that lay a few feet from the furs. "It's funny…I can barely remember my name sometimes…but I remember him…It's hard to keep your memories when you're like this, when you're just lingering for so long. But…I remember I scared a kid…I felt bad…guilty…it started all this shit, when I scared that kid…that's why I stayed…"

"Tell me," begged Jack. "Please, even if you think it's hopeless it might not be. I might be able to help you and the kids, but you've gotta tell me everything you know."

Shadow Bonnie looked back up at the steely-eyed night guard and examined him for a moment before a sigh emerged from his grinning maw.

"There's not much to tell you, Night Guard," he muttered, "but I'll do my best…"

* * *

Holy hallelujahs, guys! You REALLY came through for me on the reviews last time! Eleven reviews for one chaper! Unprecedented! It made me feel a ton better!

So…special thanks to:

KuraiFriend (Mark might receive a happy ending…might…maybe…probably not…)

Darkmegaron 13

Secret

Guest #1

ToolTimeBiscuits

Guest #2 (I'll assume you meant to say 'that's really good' or something along those lines : )

ZoroarkLover

Little Kunai

3shadowprincess (yup, glad you noticed….more explanation to come…)

Guest #3-I update on Fridays if I can, and I try to make it weekly.

Finally, I want to thank unknown (Guest) for the review and reply to his/her request that I post longer chapters.

I don't like to do chapters that exceed 3 thousand words, and I have several reasons for this.

First of all, I think chapters that are between 1-3 thousand words are more convenient for you, the reader. In my experience, when a chapter exceeds that number I just don't have time to get through it in one sitting. That range of words is the sweet spot that gives just enough content without forcing you to sit down for an hour or so. The purpose of chapters is to break up the story so you folks have a good stopping point and can come back when you have the time and read at your own pace.

Second: Chapters exceeding 3k are hard to write and even harder to edit. If I have to spend weeks editing and writing without an update I'm going to burn myself out and the story may die. It's happened before and it's VERY important that I don't kill my desire to write. Remember, folks: this isn't my only story. I have other stories I'm working on for Fanfiction and other original works that I'm also working on right now. Plus I've got normal work and classes…in other words, shorter chapters keep my energy up and make sure that I don't get overwhelmed.

And lastly: shorter chapter make sure I can update regularly and have energy in what I write. I would rather write a thousand words and update weekly than write ten thousand and not update until the end of the month.

So it's HIGHLY unlikely that I'll ever do a chapter exceeding 3k. I apologize, but don't worry. This story WILL be completed.

And your reviews help give me the energy to keep working on it. We're almost up to thirty reviews and forty Favs/Followers! That's awesome! Thanks so much, guys, you're amazing! And please keep reviewing!

Thanks again!


	8. Chapter 7: Inside This Nightmare

_Many, many years ago…_

Henry hadn't had a very good day in school. A couple of boys had taunted him mercilessly for crying when a frighteningly large beetle flew near him, and Lucas had made sure to mock him for good measure when he picked him up. Lucas seemed particularly bitter today, probably because he was in big trouble for failing to pick Henry up the other day, and ended up dropping his little brother off at Fredbear's without so much as a 'goodbye'.

Henry, hoping that a few games would cheer him up, used one of the dollars that his father had given him for providing Balloon Boy's voice to buy some tokens. The many hours that Henry had spent in the arcade had allowed him to hone his ticket-winning skills to perfection. Before long, Henry had enough tickets to earn him a prize from shelf three. That was a coveted shelf, where all of the best prizes were kept.

Henry examined his choices for a few moments before his eyes fell upon a purple robot toy. His second favorite color _and_ a robot too. It instantly reminded him of his daddy, who always wore purple and was very good at building and fixing robots. Henry cheerfully asked the Puppet (another character that always gave him the chills) for the robot, and the Puppet wordlessly gave him his prize.

Henry held his toy close, smiling proudly and wondering if his father would be happy with him naming his new friend after his father. Mike the Robot. It worked well enough.

He wanted to show his daddy his prize first. Although daddy normally advised him not to spend too much of his money on tokens (especially since he could quite easily grab a prize after work and give it to Henry) he was normally quite proud when Henry actually won something of value and didn't need to spend a billion dollars in order to do it. Henry had turned one dollar's worth of tokens into a robot that must have cost ten, maybe even a little more, and so he was sure that daddy would be more than delighted. Especially once Henry informed him that he had picked the prize specifically because it reminded him of his father.

Unfortunately for Henry, Michael wasn't inside of the restaurant. Henry's father was chasing down some teenage hooligan whom he had caught spray-painting a dirty word on poor Fredbear's face near the restaurant's entrance. The security guard had been pursuing the delinquent for quite some time, since the morning.

And James was getting bored. True, he didn't adore the opportunity to hop in an uncomfortable Spring-Suit for an hour and entertain a bunch of whiny kids (kids that almost always ended up pushing or prodding at him since apparently Spring-Bonnie just wasn't as beloved as Spring-Freddy), but at least it gave him something to do. Besides, he was a bit worried that if Mike didn't return soon and help him into the suit, the management would count this as a 'day off' and he wouldn't get paid for the day. Then he would lose money and vacation time and…

And he was tired of waiting. Mark was somewhere in the arcade (James envied his co-worker's ability to easily entertain himself with even the most childish of games), but James was sitting in the backroom, staring down at his golden suit and tapping his foot.

 _Screw it._

He grabbed the suit and lifted it onto the table. Michael had told him once or twice not to try and put the suit on by himself since apparently only 'professionals' could operate it safely, but what did he know? He wasn't a mechanic or anything, he was just a security guard who happened to be fairly good with machines. James had been in the suit, knew it inside and out, and he'd watched Michael put it on him and Mark enough times that he was quite sure he could handle it by himself.

 _Long as I'm careful,_ he thought, picking up the feet of the Spring-Suit and slowly slipping his own feet inside, _I don't see how this is dangerous. I mean, for Christ's sake, it's a cheap little suit for a kid's restaurant. Not like I'm handling a tank or something. Mike's just paranoid…_

James heard the door squeak loudly and cringed, thinking that perhaps Michael had returned at the worst possible time and now he was going to get an earful about listening to him and being an idiot.

But it wasn't Michael that stepped into the backroom. Rather, it was his soft-eyed youngest, Henry. James gave a relieved sigh and smiled at the child. Henry was a nervous little kid, but he was much quieter and more polite than most of the patrons. James didn't know him as well as Mark did, but he liked the boy just fine. So long as the kid didn't snitch on him (and Henry didn't strike James as the snitching type: Lucas would be more likely to do something like that in order to curry favor with a father who clearly preferred his younger brother) James had no beef with the boy.

The child was holding a large toy robot in his hands, a small smile brightening his face as he stepped into the backroom and his gentle eyes darted to and fro. His smile dampened and he looked up at James.

"Hi, Henry," said James with a nod, grabbing the Spring-Bonnie's torso and slowly putting it on.

"Uhm…hello, Mr. Freeman," muttered Henry, hugging his purple robot a little tighter, "Do you know where my daddy is?"

"He had to run out for a little bit," James explained, "Some brat tried to paint a dirty word on Fredbear's face."

"Oh," said Henry with an understanding nod, "Why would they do that? Lucas uses bad words a lot, but he doesn't usually paint them on places."

"Just to be rude, I guess. Make the parents mad. Don't worry: your daddy's chasing the kid and Mark already painted over the bad word."

"Is daddy gonna be back soon? I wanted to show him my robot. I got it 'cause it reminded me of him."

Henry held out the robot towards James and James had to resist the urge to roll his eyes. Aside from the fact that they both dressed in purple, the cheerfully-grinning robot didn't at all resemble snide Michael.

"Nice toy," James commented, "Did ya' win that just now?"

Henry nodded.

"All by yourself?"

Henry nodded again.

"Nice! Third-shelf, eh? You're getting better at games. Maybe one of these day's you'll be able to beat Mark in a match."

"Uhm…Mr. Freeman…what are you doing?"

James had just grabbed the last part of his suit: the head itself. He paused and looked down at the kid, who had a concerned gleam in his eyes.

"Oh, well, since your daddy's not here I'm putting on my suit by myself. I have to: it's my job."

"But Daddy said it's not safe to put it on without him," said Henry.

"You're not gonna tattle, are ya'?"

"I…no…I just don't want you to get hurt."

James chuckled. "Thanks, kiddo, but you don't have to worry. It's just a suit, it can't really hurt me that much. Here, watch…"

He put on the last piece of the costume, the head, and stepped towards the little boy. Henry took a cautious step back at first, but when James let out a hearty, "Hey, Henry!" he smiled and stepped towards the man in the bunny suit.

"So…it's safe?" he asked warily, still gripping his robot tightly to his chest even as the unease slowly left his large eyes. James chuckled.

"Didn't I tell 'ya, Henry? It's just a suit! Here, nice to meet you! I'm Spring-Bonnie!"

He extended his hand towards the boy and squatted down a bit. Henry smiled, reached out, took James' hand, and gave it a gentle shake.

It was at that moment that, from somewhere near his torso, James heard a little _twang._

And what happened next became a blur of red. He felt dozens of sharp wires and crossbeams pierce his body like daggers, he felt the warm blood that leaked from his body and all but drowned him in his suit, he felt himself fall to the floor. He gagged, choked, and struggled, but the pain continued. He heard a peep of fear from Henry, but the child didn't scream. He just stared at James as gallons of blood poured from the Spring-Suit's every crevice and formed a crimson lake on the floor.

And the very last thing that James saw before everything became black as a shadow was a purple-clad man, Michael no doubt, running in, grabbing the traumatized child, and running out, shutting the door behind him.

* * *

Well, enjoy your nightmares tonight!

Special thanks to the folks who reviewed!

KuraiFriend: I know you were looking forward to him ;D

Darkmegatron13: I'm a senpai now? Sweet! But…uh…please don't go all Yandere Sim on me…especially don't try to murder the other reviewers out of paranoid jealousy.

Unknown (Guest): Really? No other author's replied? That's very odd to me. I personally feel that every author should make an effort to respond to his or her readers. Readers make a story, after all, which is why I like to thank everyone for taking the time to read and especially thank everyone who reviews. I'd list and thank everyone who favs/follows individually too, but I just don't have time since this fic has 40 favs already (which is AWESOME! Thanks, guys!). If you have a question or request, though, I'll usually answer it in the next chapter or, if you're signed in, through a PM. Either way, I'll always reply if I can.

Fabro de Verbis

RuetheFox

And guys, I'm gonna need a heck of a lot of motivation. Work is piling up higher than a dog pile and I don't have the next chapter written out and finished yet. If I can't make the next update by next Friday I apologize, but the more reviews I get the more likely I'll be able to get over my stress and write. Review!

Also, I just did a sequel to the fic I did for OFF. If you're a fan of OFF, go check it out! It's called _Zacharie Knows Least,_ sequel to _The Player Knows Best._

Also also, if you're a fan of Hetalia, PLEASE go check out _The Boy Who Lived!_ It requires love and hugs!

Thanks a lot for reading, guys! Hopefully I'll be back by next Friday, but I won't make any promises right now. I will, however, update as soon as I can.


	9. Chapter 8: Follow Me (Then You'll See)

_Night Five:_

What very little information that Jack managed to get out of Shadow Bonnie only seemed to complicate matters. Shadow Bonnie only recalled being crushed by the suit in front of a small child and Michael, the Purple Man, running in and getting the child out of there.

 _Okay, so Spring-erg-Purple Man whisked the kid away from the gory scene. Why'd he do that? He obviously doesn't like kids…did he kill that kid right afterwards? Maybe that kid was the Puppet…or maybe even Golden Freddy_.

Jack shook his head. He was giving himself a migraine trying to sort this puzzle out when he didn't have enough pieces yet. He still had to find Bonnie, the actual Bonnie, and help him and his friends.

"Listen," said Jack, "thanks for telling me this, I promise I'll try to put the info you gave me to good use and get all of this figured out, but I need you to tell me if you know where any of the others are hiding. Bonnie, more specifically."

He held the old guitar out to Shadow Bonnie and the gloomy, grinning figure paused for a moment before mumbling, "I've seen Bonnie once or twice. He never speaks to me, of course, none of them speak to me…but the last time I saw him, he was just sitting by the exit."

 _Shit, that's where the Puppet's leading Springtrap,_ thought Jack, _I'll have to go and see it, tell it to lead Purple Man somewhere else, at least until I can talk to Bonnie. That's risky, though: leading him between rooms closer to the office gives him room to burst in. Guess it's a risk we're just gonna have to take…_

"Play music."

Jack's thoughts were interrupted by Shadow Bonnie. The night guard looked up at the ebony form.

"What?"

"Play music," repeated Show Bonnie, gesturing towards the guitar that Jack still clutched in his hand. "Bonnie always loved to sing. The others started getting sick of the songs, but Bonnie never really did. I think the kid inside wanted to be a singer…don't know for sure, but that was always my thought…."

Jack instinctively drew the guitar close and nodded. "So…if I play, Bonnie will talk to me?"

" _May_ talk to you," Shadow Bonnie emphasized. "I can make no promises…except for one: I promise you that if Michael finds you, he'll rip you to shreds. Something changed him…I don't remember what, but he changed…the guy I knew isn't in there anymore. He was…corrupted or something. There's nothing left but rage."

 _But why?_ wondered Jack. He was no criminal psychologist, but even he knew that most people, even serial killers, didn't just wake up one morning and decide to lose their marbles. Unless Michael had always been crazy and Shadow-Bonnie simply hadn't realized it, there must have been something that happened, something that made him turn into a purple-clad killer. And perhaps if Jack managed to uncover what the inciting incident was he could, somehow, use it against Springtrap. This whole 'save the children's souls' operation would run much more smoothly if he could somehow reverse engineer Springtrap's murderous insanity and shut it down once and for all.

"One more thing: there's a Freddy around here that looks like me, like a shadow. Don't trust him. Don't follow him."

"A…Shadow Freddy?" said Jack with surprise. First normal Freddy, then Golden Freddy, Toy Freddy…how many freaking Freddys did the Fazbear Company need?

Enough to sell toys. Lots of different toys. Yeah, that was probably it.

"If that's what you wish to call him," said Shadow Bonnie with a hint of amusement coming to his tone. "That one…for some reason he sympathizes with Michael. I'm not sure why, but I think the spirit in him is some sort of friend or accomplice. He led the animatronics right to him, right to his trap. Don't trust him. He'll lead you straight to Springtrap."

"Don't trust Shadow Freddy, got it….anything else?"

"That's all I know…"

"More than enough," said Jack with a nod. "I don't suppose you wanna come with? I might need your help."

Shadow Bonnie chuckled darkly. "No, Night-Guard, that would be a bad idea. The children do not trust me, after all, and they'd be even less willing to speak with you if I accompanied you. If you need me I'll be here, but I don't think I'll be very useful."

"You've been plenty useful," Jack assured the spirit. "Don't sell yourself short. I'll be back if I need help."

"Right…" muttered Shadow Bonnie gloomily.

Jack gave the grinning ghost a confident smile as he declared, "I'll help them. Don't worry. I'll help them all, and you too. Thanks for the info."

With that, Jack scurried out of the backroom, leaving Shadow-Bonnie to brood alone. Balloon Boy seemed quite relieved that the night-guard emerged from the room unharmed and with a resolute flare in his eyes.

"BB, c'mon," he said to the phantom. "We've gotta go talk to the Puppet. What time is it?"

Balloon Boy held up two translucent fingers.

"Two. 'Kay, four hours left to get as much done as possible. Let's hurry…quietly, though, quietly."

The silent phantom nodded and the duo skittered back to the office. They moved as quickly and cautiously as they could, keeping an eye out for a roaming Springtrap, but the robotic bunny didn't accost them during their trek back to the office. They arrived safe and sound.

"Pupp…erg, _The_ Puppet…"

" _Shhh!"_

Jack had to tighten his jaw to keep himself from laughing out loud. Plushtrap was still resting cozily at the Puppet's side, tangled up in its strings, and the possessed marionette was staring intently at the screen in front of it, rebooting the systems without even looking and keeping its empty eyes on Springtrap.

"Having fun?" Jack chuckled. The Marionette scoffed.

"This is…stressful. But also a tad invigorating."

"Now you know how I've been feeling. Except it's been less 'invigorating' and more 'scary as shit'."

"Language," the Puppet scolded, and Balloon Boy smiled impishly, wagging his finger up at the night guard."

"Kids restaurant. Right. Almost forgot," sighed Jack, strolling to the Puppet's side and glancing over its shoulder. He huffed in frustration when he saw that Springtrap was standing right by the exit, glowering up at the camera.

"Great. He's pissed."

"Easily distracted, however," said the Puppet confidently, flicking to another camera and tapping the 'Play Audio' icon.

"Hi!"

The pre-recorded voice echoed from the other room. The Puppet flicked back to the exit, but Springtrap was already moving towards the noise.

"Good job," said Jack, "You got the hang of it."

"And only in a few hours."

"Hey, don't be too arrogant, _The Puppet,"_ Jack snorted. "I had to learn all this without a hint or a friend."

The Puppet turned to him and the guard cringed when he sensed the disapproval from the Marionette, not unlike the disapproval that the Puppet emanated when he neglected to put 'The' in front of its name except there was more vitriol in this aura than was normal. The Puppet's ire died down swiftly, however, and Jack decided to change the subject before he somehow managed to offend the possessed puppet once more.

"Listen," said Jack, "Bonnie's near the exit. I need to get there, so I need you to lure the Purple Man away from the exit…"

"I thought the point of this was to keep him on the other side of the building…"

"The point of this is to keep him away long enough for me to talk to the others," Jack said. "You know where that decrepit Freddy body is?"

The Puppet nodded.

"Lead him there."

"That's very close, and you won't even be able to get to the exit if I lead him there," the Puppet pointed out. "You need to go through that hall to get to the exit."

"I'll hide behind the Freddy. Then you can lead him through the hallway and into the Arcade. Then just lead him between those two points. Be careful, though: I think there's a vent in the Arcade. He'll be able to get right to 'ya if you don't seal that."

"Comforting."

"Sorry. Only way. I don't suppose BB could act a distraction? Make sure he doesn't find me and rip my guts out…"

"Purple Man doesn't even acknowledge the phantoms. Never looks their way, I'm not even sure he can see them. I'll do my best to make sure he doesn't look your way."

"Comforting."

"It should be: I think I'm better at this night-guard duty than most of your predecessors."

"Yeah, well, how many of my predecessors ended up dead?"

The Puppet was silent.

"Oh, yeah, I feel amazingly confident now."

"You're not going to…?"

"I'm gonna do it, don't worry. I just expect a major pat on the back once I'm done. Keep him by the exit for now. I'll send BB over when I'm hidden and ready to go."

The Puppet stared at the night guard for a moment before nodding. Jack scurried out of the room, closely pursued by the phantom form of Balloon Boy.

"What a strange man…" muttered the Puppet. It glanced down at the worn plushie at its side and curiously inquired, "Don't you agree, Plushtrap?"

Plushtrap, naturally, said nothing.

"And his insanity is contagious," sighed the Marionette. "Wonderful."

* * *

 ** _I'msorryI'msorryI'msorry!_ ** I'm sorry I missed last week's update guys! You were all really awesome and left reviews and…agh! I feel like a bad author!

I feel even worse for giving you this news: don't worry, this fic is not going to die, but work is piling up and updating every Friday isn't feasible any more. From now on, instead of weekly updates, the updates will be bi-weekly. If I miss the designated Friday, I'll post on Saturday. Look at my profile: I'll say on Thursday if I'll be able to update tomorrow or if the update will be late.

I'm sorry, guys! I hate stopping regular updates like this, but it's not summer anymore. Until the end of December, I'm not gonna have a ton of time to write.

With that said, a special thanks to…

KuraiFriend

Fallen-Ryu

Darkmegatron13

Unknown(Guest): Are you implying I'm not popular? WAAH! Ha, just kidding : ) I'm gonna MAKE MY DREAMS COME TRUE! DOOOO IIIIT! (For those of you who don't get it, you haven't been on the Internet enough)

Jasmine

Secret (Guest)

Fabro de Verbis

Little Kunai (I'll assume you weren't talking about the story itself ;) )

XXPay4XtraShippingsXX: Thanks a bunch!

RuetheFox

You guys are amazing and I'm so sorry I didn't update as fast as your awesome reviews made me want to. Please review this chapter if you can, and thanks to everyone for reading, favoriting, following, and keeping up with this story! We're up to forty reviews! I'm so happy right now!

Thanks again!


	10. Chapter 9: Let Me Play A Song For You

" _Hahahahaha!"_

Jack felt his blood bubble as fear shot through his body like a bolt of lightening. Balloon Boy's pre-recorded giggle sounded off right above his head as he hid behind the worn-and-torn Freddy Fazbear suit. Within seconds he heard a _clomp-clomp-clomp_ of heavy metallic footsteps drawing closer to the noise and to him.

 _Stay calm. The more you freak out, the more likely he is to notice you._

But it was simply impossible for him to convince his own heart to cease its frantic pounding as the trapped murderer drew closer and closer. A shadow appeared on a nearby wall and Jack felt rather pathetic for feeling the strong urge to piss his pants at the sight of a bunny-eared silhouette.

At last, Springtrap entered.

He was mostly hidden by the shadows that the walls and stacked boxes cast, but this was the first time that Jack had seen a prowling Springtrap this close. He had been quite close that one time when the bunny animatronic had nearly pounced on him, but Springtrap had been so still that time that he might as well have been a lifeless robot.

Seeing Springtrap on the move so close was different. His glowing eyes flickered erratically back and forth, as if searching for something (Jack curled up into a little ball to make sure that he didn't end up being that _something.)_ The former Purple Man moved slowly, his steps heavy, as if even after many decades of being trapped he had yet to get used to his cumbersome body. His head and ears twitched horribly, to the point where it almost looked like he was about to have a mechanical seizure, and when he finally stood in the midst of the room, mere feet from the Freddy suit that was Jack's hiding place, a call came from his withered, grinning maw.

" _Heeeee…eeeeeee….He….eeeeeeeeeeee….."_

Jack's fear turned to fascinated wonder for a moment. _The hell? Is…is he saying 'help me'? Guess that would make sense, I imagine being stuck in a suit hurts like hell. Sorry, though, buddy: I'm not gonna risk my neck for your sake. I'm here to help the kids, not a killer._

Fortunately, there was a cry of " _Hi!"_ from the nearby room. Springtrap's ears twitched in an almost eager manner as he slunk towards the Puppet's distracting sound.

 _Clomp! Clomp! Clomp…clomp…clomp….clo…_

The sounds of his metallic feet pounding on the dusty floor subsided and Jack's frenzied heart slowly began to slow its pace. The night guard cautiously stepped out of his hiding place and once he was certain that Springtrap was out of sight, he skittered as quickly and quietly as he could towards the exit, being careful to hold Bonnie's guitar so that it wouldn't make any noise until he was far enough away.

He made it to the exit in one piece, which was about as much as he could ask for. Resisting the urge to bolt out of Fazbear's Fright (The Horror Attraction), run home, and cuddle up under his blanket like a frightened four-year-old, he gently plucked at the strings of Bonnie's guitar. He played a few notes of the Toreador March (which, he recalled, was Freddy's theme: a theme that the Fazbear Company had likely given to their mascot since it was public domain), but Bonnie did not appear. The night guard wracked his brain for childhood memories, trying to recall the songs he had listened to on the few occasions he and his brother had been permitted to enter a Fazbear establishment.

At last, a song struck him. He continued to play the Toreador March, but he sang softly:

" _Hello there, Bonnie!_

 _Wanna come and play?_

 _I think you're special_

 _In your own way_

 _I'd love to sing a song with you_

 _It's my favorite thing to do…'_

Before he could even hope to finish the last stanza, a timid voice did it for him:

"' _Cause I love you…through and through…"_

Jack took a deep breath and turned to see a faded, translucent figure sitting by the exit. Bonnie, in his phantom form, looked so much like Springtrap that it almost made Jack cringe. Instead, however, the night-guard smiled softly and held the guitar out towards the phantom. Bonnie gazed sadly at the instrument and shook his head.

"I can't…" he muttered. "I can't hold it anymore…I can't play…"

"Then I'll play for you," Jack offered, "and you sing. You're a much better singer than me, anyway."

He played and the sadness in Bonnie's see-through eyes became curiosity. The guard sat down beside the ghost and played for so long that his fingers started to hurt. Jack was afraid that Springtrap was going to hear their song number and interrupt, but he forced the fear that he felt to stay away from his face, making sure that only warmth and encouragement was visible as he smiled at Bonnie.

At last, Bonnie began to sing:

 _"Come play with Freddy_

 _Play the day away_

 _All Freddy's friends have_

 _Come here to say:_

 _We'd love to sing a song with you_

 _It's our favorite thing to do!_

' _Cause we love you through and through!"_

Jack could sense a small spark of happiness fill Bonnie's ethereal form as he sung, and by the time he finished there was a smile on his face.

"You're a great singer," said Jack.

"Thanks…you seem nice. Are you the new night guard?"

Jack nodded. "But don't worry, I'm not a bad guy."

"Don't worry, I know Purple Man's dead…sort of. But he got punished, that's what matters."

"So, Bonnie," said Jack gently, "if you know Purple Man's not a threat anymore…why are you hiding? Your friends have been giving me scares ever since I started working here!"

"They have?" giggled Bonnie. "Oh, I didn't know that. Y'know, I used to love hunting the night-guard. I was always the first out! Well, most of the time. Chica sometimes got up earlier than me, but most of the time I was first!"

"You musta' been a force to be reckoned with!"

"The night-guards always had some…choice words for me!" laughed Bonnie. He became crestfallen, however, as he muttered, "But…there's no point to that anymore. I might as well just…relax…sleep…but every time I try to sleep for good…I just feel so bad."

"Bad? Why? Bonnie, you haven't done a thing wrong."

"I…I did something wrong, though…"

"Could you tell me?"

Bonnie curled up into a little ball and started to fade into invisibility.

"Bonnie, please," pleaded Jack, "I wanna help you. Whatever happened, I'll understand. You're just a kid, Bonnie."

Bonnie stopped disappearing.

"I'm not a kid," he insisted in a weak and rather childish manner. "I…well…all right, I'll tell you. I…don't remember that well…but…there was this kid…and we locked him up…in the back room…"

* * *

Hey, have I mentioned yet that I'm evil? No? Well, I am. See you in two weeks!

(Or one, depending on how much free time I have and how long I can type for.)

Also, ten points to anybody who knows where I got that song from. I'll give you a hint: it involves a certain Youtuber.

As usual, special thanks to:

KuraiFriend

XXPay4XtraShippingsXX: Your name is always hard to type, but your comments are always well-appreciated and so I shall get every X in there! :)

shadowspawn666

The hazel-eyed bookworm

Fabro de Verbis

Jeyhellix (the artist formerly known as unknown)

Thanks to all of you for being understanding and for taking the time to review!

Please review this chapter, guys! We're almost up to fifty reviews! I'm about to explode from joy!

Thanks again for reading and I'll see you soon for another Flaaaaaaasssshhbaaaaaack!


	11. Chapter 10: Your Safest Place to Breathe

_Many, many years ago…_

Fear.

Bitterness.

Laughter.

Fear pulsed through Henry's tiny frame as he knelt by the blocked door. Bitter tears blinded him, and he thanked God for that. His tears prevented him from seeing the monstrous _thing_ that sat mere inches away in a terrifyingly clear manner.

And laughter, the sadistic laughter of Lucas and his friends, pounded at his ears as he pounded on the door.

"Let me out!" he wailed, releasing a sob so harshly that he choked. He lay down, grabbing his chest and coughing roughly.

"Please…" he cried, sobbing and coughing and listening to the monstrous sound of his big brother's laugher. He squeezed is eyes shut so that he wouldn't have to look at the horrifying empty suit, the murder machine, which sat gawking at him only a foot away. The smell of blood and the sound of James' dying gags…it all came back to him as he glanced at the spare Spring-Suit parts.

He wailed and outside of the storage closet, Lucas and the gang were giggling cheerfully. It was all in good fun. They weren't really _hurting_ the brat, after all, just giving him a little spook.

"Hey, maybe this'll be good for him," suggested Ethan. "Scare some courage into the coward!"

"Yeah right! Nothing could make _my_ brother brave, he's such a baby!" laughed Lucas. Jonathan chuckled, but at that moment he heard something (Jonathan had always had the keenest ears out of the four of them).

Footsteps. Loud footsteps. _Adult_ footsteps.

"I hear someone comin'!" he whispered.

"Damn, must be Dad," said Lucas. "C'mon, let's go!"

"What about your brother?" asked Jonathan.

"What about 'im? Dad'll get 'im out…he would'a just left _me_ in there, but he'll get _him_ out for sure."

The bitterness in his friend's tone made Jonathan squirm. They all knew full well that Lucas' father was a favoritist to the forth degree, and even though Lucas pretended like he didn't care most of the time, the pain he felt for being the less-loved one, the least favorite, occasionally surfaced.

Especially where it concerned his little brother. They all usually let it go unmentioned since none of them really had what one might consider attentive, loving parents. However, there was something particularly cruel about Lucas' situation: it wasn't that his father was just generally neglectful, it was that he was specifically neglectful _to him._ At least Jonathan was an only child and didn't have to watch as his parents showered affection onto somebody else while he could only stand by, loveless.

He shot a glare at the door to the storage room, where he could still hear Henry's pitiful weeping. On his friend's behalf, he cursed the child within, the favorite one, before he scurried after his fleeing friends, leaving Henry locked in the closet.

It had not been Michael's footsteps that Jonathan had heard. Rather, it had been Mark's. Michael had asked him to go get the spare Spring-Suit from the closet (since his usual suit still had a few stubborn scarlet stains left on it from when James had been crushed-unfortunately Mark's costume had been right next to him at the time and had thus received its fair share of bloodstains which bleach could not hide without destroying the suit).

As Mark approached the closet, however, he heard someone crying inside and was quickly able to deduce what had happened. Before he opened the closet, he yelled for Michael to come over. The child, he knew, would need immediate parental comfort once he was rescued from his predicament.

Michael arrived at the door in a flash once he was made aware that Henry was having another breakdown. He cursed his eldest son as he opened the closet door and scooped the sobbing boy into his arms.

"Hey, little buddy, it's all right," he said in the most comforting voice he could muster. Henry would have none of it, though. He clung to his father's purple uniform, weeping in terror and burying his tear-stained face into his dad's shoulder. It was clear that he wasn't going to let go anytime soon and it was even clearer that he needed to get out of the restaurant.

Michael's weary eyes traveled to his co-worker. "Hey, Mark, hold the fort for me, will 'ya?"

"Got 'ya covered, pal," said Mark with an understanding smile, giving his friend a reassuring pat on the shoulder and pushing him towards the door. "Come back when the kid's smiling."

Michael sighed at that. Given the current condition of Henry's emotional state, that would be hard.

It had been almost three weeks since James had managed to get himself killed. While Michael wasn't exactly happy he was gone (he had never been fond of James; they had never been as close as he and Mark), he did feel somewhat bad. He had told the idiots that owned this company that the suits were dangerous, but they were convinced that the suits would somehow hold out.

Of course, the Fazbear company could only share so much of the blame. It had been James' stubborn stupidity that had, ultimately, gotten him killed. Hence why the establishment managed to avoid a lawsuit, keep their precious Spring-Suits, and keep the incident under wraps.

Henry was probably the only child that even knew somebody had died in the restaurant, and seeing the Spring-Suit kill a man that he had known, that he had shaken hands with seconds before the springs locked up and crushed him…well, suffice to say the child hadn't been sleeping well for the last three weeks.

He hadn't been acting well while he was awake either, constantly crying (even more than usual, and Henry had always been the sort of child who wasn't embarrassed to let out his fear and woe through tears) and always seeming so _scared_. Especially when he had to enter his father's workplace.

And _especially_ when his brother and those blasted friends of his decided to torment the poor little boy. They had taken full advantage of Henry's newfound fear and had used the Fazbear characters to spook the child at every opportunity. He would have to keep them away from the Party.

He exhaled as he carried Henry out the backdoor, glancing a tad uneasily at the large picture of Fredbear that graced the walls of the establishment. He had scheduled the Party over a month ago. His bosses had decided that if they weren't going to give him an engineer's pay they had to give him _some_ sort of present. Once they had learned that he had a small son, they had offered to throw a party for Henry on his birthday for only a third of the normal price-they would even include the cake. It had actually seemed like a wonderful gift at the time: a nice, inexpensive party that Henry could enjoy with classmates. Maybe the child could even make some friends.

Of course, _now_ the Party situation was a bit problematic. Michael couldn't cancel at this point since everything was all scheduled and he would be penalized if he made the establishment waste time and money. Henry was going to have a birthday party at Fredbear's Family Diner whether he liked it or not.

He knew the boy was dreading it, but he hoped that if Lucas and his friends could stay at bay…perhaps this would be the perfect opportunity to let Henry fall in love with Fredbear's again. He could have some fun, play some games, make some friends, eat some cake, be happy…then he wouldn't be afraid of the place anymore. The whole bloody incident with James would be banished from his innocent little brain and he could once again rush into Fredbear's after school with a smile on his face instead of tears staining his cheeks.

Of course, the Party wasn't until tomorrow. Right now, he had to make his son stop crying.

Fortunately their house was only a brisk walk from Fazbear's. Michael entered the house and, after confirming that Lucas wasn't home, carried the child into his room.

 _His_ room. It always felt odd to refer to the pink-clad room as _his_ instead of his _and Scarlett's_ room.

He sat down on the pink comforter, cradling the boy and somberly thinking of the child's mother. Scarlett.

What an argument they had had when they'd first moved in together! She had always been one for bright colors-reds and purples and oranges and especially pinks. She had begged him to let her decorate their room pink and even though he had resisted initially…well, Scarlett had batted those lovely eyes and he hadn't been able to refuse.

How an optimist like Scarlett had allowed herself to fall in love with a cynical man like Michael had been a mystery even to the lucky groom, but Scarlett hadn't seen anything wrong with it. She always said they were like Yin and Yang, opposites that attracted and fit together like two pieces of a puzzle, and he had been all too happy to accept her reasoning. He could use a touch of hope in his life, after all. Even when he had a horrible day, Scarlett would always find a bright spot. And if she couldn't find a bright spot, she would smile tenderly and proclaim that 'Tomorrow is another day."

That was her favorite phrase, from the film _Gone with the Wind,_ her all-time favorite movie since she was named after the protagonist. He had spent so long watching that movie with Scarlett, blissfully holding her and paying no attention to the boring film itself. _Tomorrow is another day_ was the optimistic last line of that movie, and Scarlett had used it so often that even he, unconsciously, used it when he was having a particularly bad day. He had even, one or twice, comforted Henry with the phrase when the boy had a miserable day and Michael didn't know what else to say to comfort his son.

He glanced at the picture of the pink flower on the wall and sighed. Even though Scarlett had been dead for many years-she had gotten very sick shortly after Henry's birth and had passed before Henry even had a chance to call her 'Mommy'-he still hadn't been able to bring himself to remove her precious décor. Removing the pink would be like removing her, and he just couldn't do that.

Being in his father's room always did wonders in terms of getting Henry to stop crying (perhaps something about the pink unconsciously reminded him of his mother). Within five minutes, Henry's wails were reduced to sniffles, then teary silence.

"Better?' asked Michael. The boy was still crying, but he wasn't a wreck now.

Henry rubbed his eyes and shrugged. "Lucas locked me in the closet," he confessed quietly. "I was scared."

"That's what I thought," said Michael, clenching his teeth angrily. "Don't worry, Lucas is going to be in _big_ trouble."

Henry didn't seem entirely happy about this fact. He merely looked down and his tear-filled eyes found a tiny model of Toy-Foxy that was in pieces on the floor. He slipped off his father's lap and onto the floor, picking up the broken toy and fiddling with it curiously.

"What's this?" asked the child, as if desiring to change the subject.

"Oh, that," said Michael with a slight smile. "I'm trying to help design a new set of animatronics."

"For…our restaurant?"

"No, there's another big restaurant opening soon. They're gonna have all new animatronics, but they're gonna have plastic instead of fake fur. Easier to clean that way. We're calling them 'Toy' models, because they're gonna be like toys."

"Oh," said Henry, peering closely at the Toy-Foxy. "Which is this gonna be? It looks like Foxy."

"Good eye, Henry. It is Foxy, Toy-Foxy."

"But Foxy's a boy," Henry pointed out, gazing at the makeup-clad and eyepatch-free Toy model. "And he's a pirate too."

"Well, this is a different Foxy," explained Michael, "My bosses thought the one we have now is too scary…"

"He is scary!" squeaked Henry.

"Well, there you go. So we're making Foxy pretty instead of scary now."

Henry fiddled with the head of the toy Toy-Foxy and said in a slightly brighter tone, "I think I like Foxy better when he…erg… _she_ is pretty."

He played with the model, pulling out its limbs and experimenting with where the parts could go and how he could make the mangled Toy look better. Michael watched with a small smile, relieved that the boy was calm and somewhat content once more.

"Maybe you can be an engineer someday and make cute and pretty animatronics instead of scary ones," Michael suggested. "Y'know, I went to engineering school."

"But Daddy, you're a policeman," said Henry, gesturing to his father's purple uniform. Michael chuckled at that.

"I'm a security guard, Henry, not a policeman. Policemen catch criminals, I just keep the restaurant safe. But I also did a lot of work with machines. That's why I help Mark get into the Spring-Suit and help fix the animatronics when they're broken."

"Why are you a security guard instead of a mechanic then, Daddy?"

"Some things came up and I wasn't able to finish school," explained Michael vaguely, neglecting to mention that the 'thing that came up' which had prevented him from finishing his education was actually Lucas. He might have forgiven his eldest for this if the boy wasn't such a brat.

"That's why they can't hire me as a mechanic," he continued. "I don't have enough official qualifications."

"What's a quaff-il-qua-" mumbled Henry, stumbling sweetly over the pronunciation and causing Michael to laugh.

"Something you need before you can get certain jobs... _qual-if-i-ca-ti-ions._ "

" _Quaaaal-ifi-ca-tions,"_ said Henry slowly.

"Good job!"

"Do I need qualifications?" asked Henry with a hint of worry. Michael shook his head.

"No, Henry, not until you're older."

"I'm older tomorrow," pointed out Henry.

"You're _six_ tomorrow, Henry," chuckled Michael. "You don't need qualifications until you're _much_ older than that. Don't worry about it. You've got plenty of time to get all of the qualifications you need. For now, just focus on having fun."

Henry nodded and went back to playing with the model while Michael watched. Tears were still staining Henry's cheeks, but Michael knew that they would eventually dry off. For now, his son was scared and sad most of the time, but it was a temporary state of affairs. Someday, perhaps even on his birthday, Henry would be happy. And that was all Michael could really ask for.

* * *

 _ **Holy shit.**_

Let me tell you all a little story. We shall call it "One Month at Dum-Dum's".

Idiot Author: There we go! Chapter 10 of my FNAF Fanfiction is done and done! Hmmmm…maybe I should back up what I have of the next chapter…nah!

(Computer bursts into flames.)

Idiot Author: Eeek! Well, that was bad luck. I'm about two weeks behind on my Fanfic now. Oh well! It's almost Thanksgiving Break, I'll have plenty of time to re-write what I lost and post it as a Thanksgiving gift to my awesome readers!

(Has an allergic reaction to something her aunt made and ends up coughing up blood).

Idiot Author: That was a fun experience. Well, now that the inside of my throat is no longer having its time of the month, I can get back to…

Teachers: NOPE!

Idiot Author: Oh, right, finals. Well, after that…

(Breaks wrist).

Idiot Author: Oh, come on!

And here we are. Good Lord, I am sorry, folks. I can only hope that this extra long chapter will make it so that you forgive me and don't abandon me and don't come over to my Bio page with torches and pitchforks. I'm a bit more settled now and I'm still writing as much as I can. Thanks to everyone for being so patient!

And a special thanks to:

Guest Number 1

Sonicxjones: Ask and ye shall receive

UnimportantDude: You're very important tome :)

Darkmegatron

Jeyhellix

Fabro de Verbis

Shippings

KuraiFriend (Yep, you got it!) For those of you who don't know, the song Jack sung to Bonnie in the last chapter was from the FNAF Musical Part 1, starring the always awesome Markiplier. Go give it a watch if you haven't already!

Secret

RuetheFox

You are all awesome for leaving reviews and I wish I'd been able to thank you with another chapter sooner!

As it were, we're past 60 reviews guys! Can't thank you enough, you're all amazing!

Next update will hopefully happen soon (provided I don't get crushed by a Spring-Suit or something in the meantime.) Be sure to check my profile page, I usually say when the next update will be there!

Thanks again for reading, guys! I'll be back (hopefully without a hiatus).


	12. Chapter 11: A Monster in the Dark

_Night Five:_

" _All around the restaurant_

 _Purple Man chased the Puppet_

 _The Purple Man got to the room…_

 _Gone is the Puppet…"_

Balloon Boy watched as the Puppet frantically flickered between the different cameras and the systems monitor, tightening his ethereal lips as he watched the one who had once given him life become nearly overwhelmed with stress. The mere fact that the Puppet had switched from the calming tune of _Grandfather's Clock_ to a frantic version of _Pop Goes the Weasel_ was enough of a hint that things were going horribly wrong.

The phantom crept closer to the swivel chair that the possessed marionette sat upon. Plushtrap was beginning to slip off the chair, the Puppet's rapid and frenzied movements resulting in the toy slowly slipping from its perch. Balloon Boy would have picked up Plushtrap if he could, but unfortunately in his current phantom form he couldn't really touch solid objects.

He had never felt so useless. He had always been the smallest of the gang, too small to attack the Night-Guard when they had all been busily hunting him down, but back then he had at least been _somewhat_ useful. He could sneak under the Night-Guard's desk and swipe his batteries when he was distracted, leaving the guard wide open for Foxy.

He smiled at the thought of his old friend. They'd been quite the team! Never successful, true, but they'd come close, and it had been invigorating to work with Foxy and the others to take down the murderer, to _do_ something.

"BB, step back a bit, you're distracting me," said the Puppet curtly, and the phantom somberly backed away. Now he was just a distraction at best. If something happened, if Purple Man attacked…he wouldn't be able to help Jack or his friends.

Speaking of Jack, though, after the Puppet managed to lure Purple Man into the old arcade where he was at least relatively far from both Jack and the security office, the Marionette flicked to the camera by the exit. Balloon Boy stepped up to the screen once more and smiled when he saw Jack sitting beside Bonnie.

"Good, he found him," muttered the Puppet. It glanced at the smiling Balloon Boy and confessed, "Guess he's not as helpless as I thought."

Balloon Boy nodded. Both of them listened to what the Night-Guard and the ethereal rabbit were discussing.

"…and that's the last thing I remember…" Bonnie concluded, "We ran off…and…we were afraid he would come…Purple Man…"

"To hurt you? Or to hurt the kid inside?" Jack asked as delicately as he could.

"The kid…the kid…I don't remember his name, but…he was…he was his kid! Purple Man's!"

"His…you must be remembering it wrong…"

"Michael! Michael, that was his name, Mr. Michael Schmidt! I remember because we were scared he would punish us for bullying his kid!"

Jack stiffened. _Michael…that's the same name Shadow-Bonnie gave…can't be a coincidence then…no sense, though, how could a parent kill a bunch of kids?_

Jack himself was not a father, but he had friends who had kids and he knew that their parental affection towards their own children often led them to behave parentally towards other children. The parents he knew would _never_ hurt another child specifically because they often imagined how horrible it would be if someone hurt their kid.

"Mr. Night-Guard?" said Bonnie apprehensively. "Did…I say something wrong?"

"No, no, Bonnie, that's just…confusing to me…I mean…"

While Jack and Bonnie conversed, however, and while the Puppet gawked at the screen, clearly just as confused as Jack, something caught Balloon Boy's eye. Something dark. He gasped and started desperately shoving his ghostly hand at the screen.

"Hey! BB! Knock it…!" the Puppet started to bark, but it looked to the area on the screen that Balloon Boy was pointing to and noticed the gloomy figure that was causing the phantom to panic.

"What the…" muttered the Puppet, but Balloon Boy was already out of the office and scurrying towards the exit to warn Jack.

He was too late, however. The dark figure giggled cruelly, causing Jack to leap to his feet and causing Bonnie to yelp in fear and try to hide behind the Night-Guard despite the fact that even in his phantom form he was easily two feet taller than the man.

Jack gazed up at the giggler and his heart fell to the pit of his stomach when he saw the shadowy figure, which looked like the silhouette of Freddy Fazbear, and immediately deduced that this was the creature that Shadow-Bonnie had warned him about.

"Shadow-Freddy," he whispered, and he heard Bonnie whimper behind him.

"Mr. Night-Guard," whispered Bonnie, his translucent eyes glued timidly to the ebony figure. Shadow-Freddy was hovering right above the glowing 'Exit' sign, grinning widely, his bright white teeth and eyes eerily standing out in the darkness. The shadowy creature giggled madly once more and Jack could sense that the rabbit behind him was becoming overwhelmed with fear.

"It's okay, Bonnie," Jack said in the most calming voice he could muster even as trepidation started to make its way into his tone. "I've got this, don't…"

"Chica's in the kitchen," muttered Bonnie, "She's always in the kitchen…."

"I…what?"

But when the Night-Guard turned around, Phantom Bonnie was gone and he was alone with Shadow-Freddy.

* * *

Hey guys! Bit of a shorter chapter here, but I got it done and decided to post a bit early to make up for lost time and because you are all awesome!

BTW: FNAF announcement! Scott Cawthon wrote a book for FNAF! It's available on Amazon right now! It's called _Silver Eyes._ I haven't read it yet, but I did buy it and I plan on reading it ASAP! And you guys should too! Go out there and support Scott, everyone, we wouldn't have this amazing franchise if it weren't for him, after all!

But also don't forget to come back and read my stuff :)

As always, special thanks to:

Kuraiku: Glad you think so!

Shippings

XxPeacegirl02xX: Thank you for the two reviews! You get extra authorial love (*Sends Hug*). I'm actually in Winter Break right now (I'm in college and we get a month off between semesters as part of our 'Winter Break'), so the next month or so should be easier on the updates.

As to your question on Lucas, I'm glad you brought that up because, in my haste to put the last chapter up, I neglected to look over my notes and remember to include that part of Lucas' motivation. Not sure if I'll get another chance to bring it up, so I'll just mention it here.

Aside from the obvious factor of his father's favoritism, Lucas has a second motivation for bullying his brother: his mother. Remember, Scarlett died very shortly after Henry died, when Lucas was a very young child (about seven years old, give or take). In fact, she died _suspiciously_ shortly after Henry's birth. As if Henry, somehow, had something to do with her death. Michael knows that's not the case, but Lucas was (and is, he's only thirteen in this story at most) too young to know of or witness the specifics of his mother's medical condition. Therefore, it's only natural that he thinks his brother might have, inadvertently, caused their mother's death. So, in Lucas' mind, Henry has taken both of his parents away from him: his father because he hogs all of the affection as 'The Favorite', and his mother because, Lucas thinks, his birth resulted in her death.

On a lighter note, Peacegirl, I think your name might be harder to type than Shippings' XD. There are always so many numbers on Fanfic accounts. And X's. Lots of X's.

Mitsuki Shigamatsu: You've got that right…(*Evil Laugh*)

UnimportantDude: Humiliation conga is right; that's now the phrase I will be using when I become the butt of the universe again. (And also, contrary to what Michael said in the last chapter, I don't find _Gone with the Wind_ boring at all. I actually watch it all the time with my mom. She always says I'm stubborn as Scarlett O'Hara.)

KingdomHeartsNerd: As you wish!

Thanks to all of you for leaving reviews! Wow! We're almost up to seventy! I think I'll go do my happy dance and then write some more!

Thanks to everyone for reading and reviewing and favoriting and following! Go get Scott's book and then come back in about a week to see what happens next in this FNAF story!

Next chapter: Shadow-Freddy


	13. Chapter 12: If You Get Killed on the Job

"You're a naughty Night-Guard. Naughty, naughty, naughty…not even wearing your uniform!"

Jack stumbled back a bit, barely managing to keep his footing as he nearly tripped on a pile of wires. He didn't dare take his eyes off of the shadowy creature as it grinned tauntingly at him, though he did allow his pupils to flicker to the side as he heard the whirr of the camera, indicating that the Puppet was watching him.

 _Damn it, Puppet,_ he thought. _I know you're concerned, but don't watch me, keep your eyes on Springtrap!_

He focused on the smiling Shadow-Freddy. Shadow-Bonnie had warned him that this particular spirit was a friend of the Purple Man, so his biggest priority was to distract the Shadow so that it wouldn't alert Springtrap to his presence…and get him away from the exit so that when he _did_ inevitably call to Springtrap, the Night-Guard wouldn't be cornered.

"Shadow-Bonnie told me about you," he said, and Shadow-Freddy giggled.

"Did he now, did he? Spreading rumors as always, that no-good James! He always used to just go outside and bad mouth me and Mike…bad, bad, bad, always bad, always at fault, though maybe not as much as them…"

He nodded towards where Bonnie had been standing previously.

"'Them'?" repeated Jack. "You mean the phantoms? The kids?"

Shadow-Freddy cackled and nodded energetically. Jack began to step to the side, trying to bait the phantom into beginning to circle him so that he could have access to the exit. Shadow-Freddy refused to move, however, and continued to block the only escape.

"The _kids,_ the _kids_ , they're always just called _the kids_. Like they were just sweet little angels…hahahaha! Well, I know better, I know because I saw and because I didn't do!"

"You're out of your mind," snapped Jack, cringing as he could swear that he heard a metallic footstep somewhere a bit too close for comfort.

"Well, I technically don't have a mind. No body, no mind, not like Mike, but he was always the smart one. Yes, yes, yes! Smart, but always under-appreciated, poor Mike, not appreciated by anyone but me!"

"So you know the Purple Man, Michael Schmidt," said Jack. "How?"

"Ooooh, how coy!" chirped the ebony phantom. "You're trying to interrogate me like you did the others. Naughty, naughty! How sneaky! Maybe you deserve to be punished like the rest of us…"

"'Deserve'? 'The rest of us'?"

"Oh, yes, yes, yesyesyesyesyes! All out fault, all our fault. My fault, their fault, all of us are sinners and so here we are, in Hell where we belong! You don't have any right to take us out, Night-Guard, no right at all! What Mike says goes, so let's see what he wants to do with you!"

"Wait, d-!"

"MIKE! MIKE! HERE HE IS, HERE HE IS, FOLLOW MY VOICE AND COME GET HIM!"

Jack swore viciously and tried to run for the exit as he heard the unmistakable sound of Springtrap's heavy steps beginning to trod towards him. The Puppet desperately tried to lure him away, but no matter how many times it played the various Balloon-Boy sound effects the animatronic bunny ignored it in favor of following Shadow-Freddy's bellowing.

Shadow-Freddy was apparently much more solid than he appeared. Try as Jack did to open the 'Exit' door and escape, the phantom kept pushing him back, cackling all the way.

Jack felt his heart beating so hard that he almost keeled over right then. He looked behind him and saw a bunny-eared shadow. Shadow-Freddy giggled.

"I'll leave you two to it!" he chirped, vanishing just as Springtrap entered the room. Jack lunged for the now-unguarded door and tried to open it, but it was locked and he didn't have time to dig the key out of his pocket.

He leapt behind a pile of crates, sweating so profusely that he almost left a trail in his wake. He curled up into a little ball and held his breath, nearly fainting as he heard metallic footsteps draw closer.

 _Clomp!_

Closer…

 _Clomp!_

He heard the camera whirr. The Puppet was watching, likely in dismay.

 _Clomp._ He was so close. Jack could practically smell the rotting flesh inside of his metallic shell. He bit his bottom lip so hard that he almost pierced his own flesh. He wished he had called his brother one last time, really told him how much he loved him. He wished he had visited his dad once more and thanked him for raising him right.

And almost the second he began to think of his own father, the second Springtrap's glowing eyes began to shift downwards, a sound was heard, a familiar voice that did not belong to the recording.

" _Daddy!"_

Springtrap froze. Jack looked towards the voice and managed to just barely catch a glimpse of Balloon Boy before the phantom fled.

Springtrap followed Balloon Boy with utmost eagerness, his heavy steps surprisingly swift given how slow he was on normal occasions.

As Springtrap's steps faded, Jack yanked his key out of his pocket and unlocked the door. He rushed outside, slamming the door behind him and sitting on the rusted metal stairs. His heart was still hammering, and he inhaled as much of the cool night air as his lungs could contain. It helped alleviate the terror. The cold air nipping at his nose and filling his functioning lungs…it was a reassurance that he was alive.

He sat out there for maybe five minutes before he felt his phone vibrate. He looked at the caller ID.

Fazbear's Fright-The Horror Attraction

He put it on speaker.

"Yo," he sighed, and he wasn't in the least bit surprised when the Puppet's voice came through the other end.

"I have him stuck in a vent," it said. "You can come in…if you want…but if you don't, that's…fine…"

"I'm coming back in, just gimme a sec…I'm a bit winded…"

"Of course…"

"You okay in there?"

"Yes…Night-Guard Jack…really, if you don't want to…"

"I'm literally coming back in right now," said Jack with determination, standing up, stealing one last glance at the starry sky, and entering Fazbear's Fright (the Horror Attraction) once more.

"You are a strange man, Jack," said the Puppet gently. "Very strange and very brave. I wish…"

Its voice trailed off and before Jack could ask what it wished, it hung up.

"Typical," he huffed, creeping back towards the office. Having Springtrap so close, close enough that he had been able feel his ragged breath and smell his rancid stench, had been quite the experience. He would never take the simple act of _living_ for granted again.

And because of that, he would do his best to make sure that the kids who lacked life, who didn't have what he did, would suffer no more. Even if he had to risk his precious existence, he was gonna see this through no matter how much Shadow-Freddy decided to interfere.

" _Hell_ ," sighed the Night-Guard, glancing about the decrepit establishment that Shadow-Freddy had defined as a realm for suffering sinners. "Screw that. Never did believe in Hell anyway, not for kids…not for anyone."

He looked over at the wall, which had been residence to Springtrap's shadow mere minutes ago, pursed his lips, and scurried away.

* * *

Hey guys! Sorry for the slightly late chapter! We're all snowed in up here, so I got a chance to polish it off. I've actually been late because I just added a new story to my list, one on Undertale. If you're an Undertale fan, please go and check it out! It's called "The Machine".

As always, a special thanks to those who reviewed, including…

ChuckNorris'ssister: Thanks for the three reviews! You get THREE Internet hugs (*hugs thrice*)

CT(Guest): You made my stomach sink briefly :)

Peace: No problem! Thanks! Also, excellent Frisk face…Undertale reference FTW -_-

Guest

Xafai: I'm so happy you love this story! Thanks so much for the long review!

Shippings

Guest #2: The bullies are indeed the missing kids : ) Lucas and his friends.

RuetheFox: You are correct on the song guess!

Speaking of which, guys, I'm curious as to what your favorite FNAF songs are! For me, I can't choose just one because I love them for different reasons, but in terms of the ones I adore most and listen to most, in no particular order, these are my favorites:

Five Nights at Freddy's (The Living Tombstone-I especially enjoy DarknessMare's younger version!)

It's Been So Long (breaks my heart every time)

Break My Mind (breaks my mind every time…with how awesome it is!)

March Onward To Your Nightmare (criminally underrated)

It's Time to Die (IN FIIIIVE NIGHTS AT FREDDY'S THREE!)

I'm the Purple Guy (You'll notice there are a lot of DAGAMES songs here)

Dream Your Dream (so sad…)

Painted Face (the song that inspired this fic's title!)

Survive the Night

Die in a Fire

Just Gold

Five Long Nights

Noticed

Nightmare (so sad…)

Balloons (WAAAAH!)

And last but certainly not least, all of the FNAF Musicals (I loved the ones with Markiplier, he's such a good singer, but of the three I think my favorite is NateWantsto Battle's song during Night 3…so great! Go check it out if you haven't!)

Those are just my absolute favorites! What are yours? Comment below, let me know! (Channeling Jeremy Jahns).

Thanks again for reading!


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